Rise From the Ashes
by kdzl
Summary: When everything falls apart, life has a way of bring joy out of the ashes of our sorrows. JJ/Hotch friendship building into a relationship. Minor Character Death
1. Prologue

_**An/This story I began months ago but decided to hold on to for a bit when stories with similar plots came out. But now feels like a good time to post the first chapter of it. I hope you enjoy it. I'll try to keep it updated about once a week, but I make no promises.**_

**_I don't own Criminal Minds, but that doesn't stop me from having far too much fun with it. Anyway, enjoy!_**

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"While the world is full of suffering, it is also full of overcoming it." –Helen Keller

"Will, please. Can we not fight about this tonight?" I pled as I got in the car, grateful that at least this time Henry wasn't there to see the familiar argument. We were having the same fight we had been having for the last few months.

"JJ, I love you. We live together. We have a son together. Why don't you want to get married?" He asked passionately shutting the driver's door behind him. I love him too, I really do. But I just don't really know if we should rush into something like that. While not a complete cynic, I learned a long time ago that marriage didn't equate to happiness.

"Will, I love you too" I hoped that he could tell by the sincerity in my voice that I meant every word. Will was my constant, the best thing that had ever happened to me. But the last thing I wanted to do was ruin our relationship by forcing ourselves to move on to the next step before we were really ready. _Will I ever be ready?_

"But?" He sensed my trepidation. Both of us knew this argument by heart--not that it solved anything.

"But I don't want to get married just because I got pregnant. Can we talk about this another time?" I begged. I had just gotten home from a case, and I was exhausted. _Does he not understand that I'm not ready for this conversation just yet? Frankly, sometimes I think that I won't ever be ready for this conversation. _Not that I would ever tell him that.

"Sure." He smiled at me charmingly. I love it when he smiles like that--the world just seems to melt away, and I forget the stresses and pressures of life. "Where do you want to go eat, Cher?"

"Chinese?" I suggest and don't fail to notice the small smirk on his face. I love Chinese, and while he's never been a big fan, I know that I've secretly got him hooked on Kung Pao Chicken—not that he'd ever admit that out loud.

"Golden Dragon it is." Will said, though I could tell he still wanted to talk.

I smiled at him happily, neither of us noticing the red truck as it barreled into our small grey SUV.

* * *

I felt cold hands pulling me from the darkness that I had fallen into. Everything hurt. I didn't know I could feel this much pain. The smell of blood permeated my nostrils before I succumbed to the darkness that seemed to beckon to me, only slightly hearing a desparate voice call "She's alive, somebody get an ambulance!"

Forcing myself from the welcoming darkness of sleep, my first response was to cry for Will. But the words won't come, no matter how hard I tried to force them. I hoped he was alright. I needed him to be alright. I felt as the cold hand begin to hold me up, followed by another pair supporting the other side of my body.

"Sweetheart, you're going to be alright." A male voice reassured, though despite the comforting tone, it makes me uncomfortable. No man ever calls me sweetheart besides Will, and I don't think I want someone else using his term of endearment. I decided that I would give him the benefit of the doubt. I mean, this guy _is _ trying to save my life. The least I can do is try to be nice.

I could hear the vile cries of the ambulance that made my head want to explode. I knew that I should feel relief, like someone is coming to save me, but the only thing I felt was annoyance. Can't anyone stop the sirens? Why won't anyone stop the sirens?

And then the sirens stop. I felt a sense of gratitude for that, at least I wouldn't lose my sanity. The darkness once again reared its comforting face, taking me away from the panic that surrounded me.

* * *

The subtle beep of monitors pulled me from the comfortable haze. My ears strained to hear hushed, whispered voices, but I didn't have the energy to open my eyes and acknowledge their presence.

"Where is JJ going to stay?" Garcia asked softly, sounding terrified. "She has nowhere to go, her parents are in a nursing home up in Pittsburgh and her brother's family lives in Colorado. She doesn't have anyone here."

If I had the energy to care, I would be worried about what they were talking about, but it was all I could do to keep listening to the conversation.

"She can stay with me." Emily volunteered, sounding firm.

I've always admired the way Emily would do anything for her friends. I was thrilled when she joined the unit, and she'd become such a good friend.

"She can move in with me—" Emily's impassioned plea was cut off by Garcia, who I could picture was shaking her head quickly.

"Emily, she just went through a debilitating car accident and your entire house is separated by stairs. There's no way she's going to be able to handle that physically." Garcia reasoned.

_Debilitating?_ I questioned myself, other than this fog that I couldn't seem to penetrate, I felt fine.

"She can stay with me." Reid said immediately, causing me to smile inwardly. Reid was just like the little brother I never had.

"You have no room for Henry." Garcia pointed out, "I have no room for Henry." She said dejectedly.

"How about my place?" Morgan offered.

Had I been feeling better, I would have laughed out loud at that statement. Live with Morgan? I'd rather die. Or live in a cardboard box. Either one.

"No." Emily and Garcia said in unison.

"Why not?" Morgan asked. I could barely detect the pain in his voice at the quick denial of his offer, though I'm certain the others picked up on it as well.

"I don't think JJ wants to wreck your libido." Garcia laughed awkwardly. _That's true!_ I laughed to myself as I pictured me living with Derek Morgan and couldn't help but recognize that Penelope Garcia knows me too well.

"His girlfriends wouldn't even notice." Reid smirked, siding with Derek. I almost wanted to laugh at his comment, but I could feel the darkness engulfing me once more. Pushing the darkness away, I forced myself to keep listening at least until they had resolved whatever was so important.

"I will buy a new house so that JJ and Henry can move in with me before I let her stay with Morgan." Emily retorted protectively. She would always be protective--it was part of who she was--but this was starting to get ridiculous. _Just leave me alone_. I groaned as weariness tugged at my consciousness, pulling me closer and closer to the abyss of sleep.

"There are short term care facilities that deal with rehabilitation after surgery." Reid suggested, his comment bringing me closer to reality while fought a shudder. I would rather move in with Morgan. But why was this such an issue? _I can live at my house._ The solution seemed to satisfy me until I heard the conversation continue.

"We are not sending JJ to a rest home." Morgan, Emily, and Garcia affirmed at once. _Thanks guys._

"What about Rossi?" Reid offered. I'm sure Dave would love that, having to deal with an inherently debilitated me while I ruin his libido. If the rumors are true, he is just as bad as Morgan.

"I think that would be awkward for her." Emily shot down kindly. "She and Rossi like each other, but I don't think they are really in a place in their interaction where that wouldn't be a big deal."

_Good call Emily._ I tried to smile but could feel that my mouth wasn't responding. In fact, my entire body seemed to tingle slightly, like that weird phase between sleep and waking. I just felt so tired.

"That leaves Hotch." Garcia said decisively.

"Hotch." Emily agreed. Apparently they all agreed, because I heard none of the rumblings that had been filling the room for the last few minutes.

I don't know how I'm supposed to face spending time with my boss. That just sounds odd, me moving in with Hotch. I really did feel fine, why would they be so concerned?

"Who gets to tell him?" Reid said after a moment. I wish I could have seen his face, I was sure it was a hopeful face, praying that Emily would take this one for the team. For some reason--one that I don't know--all the painful chores of the BAU always fall on Emily. When she first came to the unit, I would to try to stop it, but she never seemed to mind. So I easily assumed that Emily would be the one talking to him.

"One. Two. Three. Not it." I heard Emily, Morgan, and Garcia shout in unison. _Oh no_.

"Wait, what?" Reid asked obliviously. I chuckled inwardly. _Only to Reid_.

"You're it, pretty boy." Morgan said. I could hear the smile behind his eyes.

"I can't be held to game standards that I never learned." Reid cried indignantly. Somehow, I could tell he was worried that Hotch wouldn't take me in and that the very suggestion would fracture Hotch's already delicate resolve to continue working at the FBI. I really was starting to feel like a puppy without a home, but I could feel myself abandoning the feelings of lonliness for the comforting call of the darkness.

"Sorry Reid, the rules of the 'not-it' game are unflinchingly rigid and cannot be changed based on circumstance." Garcia informed chipperly. I could tell she didn't feel bad--to tell you the truth, neither did I. Hotch is in fact always nicer to Reid than he is to anyone else. It's the luck Reid got for being a genius with no family, people automatically tried to take pity on him.

"But-" Reid tried to reason with the others, but it was to no avail.

Suddenly, reality hit me like a weight of bricks, pulling me from my dream-like state. I'm probably a crappy girlfriend because I hadn't sooner. Why wasn't anyone talking about Will? Will was in the car with me, sitting right next to me. Will had been—No. My mind couldn't bear to think of the possibility. _You don't find your soul mate just to lose them right then_, I assured myself. We hadn't even started our lives together--there was no way God would do this to me.

It was then that I noticed the dull tingling starting to increase. It had started out as a tingle before, but now, it was a feeling I recognized easily. Pain. Everywhere. _But where's Will?_ My mind raced to clear the fog that seemed to jumble my thoughts, all the while my body increasingly recognizing the agony it was in.

My heart monitor began to beat emphatically, portraying the state of panic that waged war on my weary soul. I was sure that this couldn't really be happening. This had to be some joke. Or a dream. I would wake up soon. The others became alarmed at the rapid beeping and suddenly, I felt Garcia's light calming touch on my hand.

"JJ." The terror in her voice didn't fit. The Garcia I know is sunshine in the darkness--I can't have one of the few constants in my life change. Not now. "It's going to be okay." I could hear the slight tremor in her voice, but I couldn't force myself to calm down.

I heard the nurses come running in. "Give her 10cc of morphine. Are any of you her next of kin or emergency contact?"

_Nope. My emergency contact was with me in the crash, and no one is saying a word about him. _I answered the nurse, though at some level I was aware that my mouth refused to respond.

"We need permission to give her a mild tranquilizer. She doesn't need to be awake for this." The nurse assured. At first, I was petrified that they would agree. I couldn't stand the idea of waking up and Will still not being here. But the more I thought about it, the more the idea of being as far away from this as possible seemed like the only thing to protect my sanity.

After feeling a slight burning up my arm--presumably from the IV, the darkness that I had been fighting welcomed me with open arms.

* * *

The blackness cleared once more, this time, I did have the energy to open my eyes, the memory of the conversation of my friends easily forgotten along with the hazy dreams of popcorn and leprechauns.

"Jayje, you're awake." Garcia beamed, I could see the worry apparent in her eyes. The eyes that normally gleamed had an added weariness, weariness that I had inadvertently caused.

"What happened?" I asked, somewhat surprised at the raspy sound of my voice.

"You were broadsided by a teenage driver. He walked away without a scratch." Garcia explained comfortingly. I could tell she wasn't saying something--I had always been able to tell when Garcia wasn't telling me everything. It was a skill that actually came in handy several times, but now, I just needed the truth.

"Where's Will?" I asked, the conversation that I had assumed was a dream came back to my memory with full force. Now was the time, I needed to know.

Garcia's face fell. "Maybe we should talk about this later."

"He didn't make it, did he?" I deduced, unable to stop the tears that began to flow silently down my cheeks.

"Honey, I'm so sorry."

"Did he—?" I swallowed the lump in my throat, unable to ask the question that I desperately needed to know.

"He was killed on impact. He didn't feel a thing. We were worried about you sweetheart."

"Why?" I choked out a half-sob.

Garcia looked at me with kind eyes, and I could tell that this hurt her as much as it hurt me. "Girl, you almost died."

"Garcia, I'm.." I trailed off, I actually didn't know how I was, but that wasn't going to stop me. "I'm fine."

"Look at yourself." My familiar friend commanded, "Dislocated shoulder," as if on cue I tried to move my shoulder only to feel it slightly numb and immobile, "bruised ribs, concussion, your femur was crushed and they had to pin it back together. You are _not _ fine Miss Pin-cushion" Garcia scolded, as she mentioned each area, it seemed to flag the dull pain that I assumed was numbed by the drugs.

"Well, I will be fine." I countered, trying to ignore the streaming tears. "But it doesn't matter, he can't come back."

Garcia nodded sadly. We remained in silence for several minutes. "Maybe I should grab Emily, she's better with this sort of thing."

"I don't want her to see me like this. I don't want anyone to see me like this." I pled. In truth, if I had a choice, Garcia wouldn't have been in the room either.

"Okay." She conceded immediately. Again, silence descended upon us and after a moment, Penelope cleared her throat. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that this had to happen to you." The pity in her eyes was unmasked and genuine, but I wasn't ready for it yet.

"I know." I tried to smile tentatively, but I'm sure that it wasn't very convincing. "I just don't know where I'm going to go from here." And I really didn't, what was I going to do without Will? It just didn't seem real. I didn't feel like I wouldn't see the love of my life again. He was dead, I had heard the words, but it didn't feel like he was.

"Well, you have Henry. If that's the only thing you can do to keep going, think of him." Garcia offered unsurely. Under different circumstances, I might have cared at how Garcia--who normally had answers to everything--questioned herself with each comment she made.

"I will." I whimpered. My small son would have to be my will to live, I was alright with that.

"And erm...the doctors…They want you to stay with someone close to you for a while." Garcia added. "Reid is talking to Hotch right now."

"Hotch?" I sputtered. Because that won't be awkward at all. "Why?"

"Yeah, he was the best we could think of. Reid said that he's fine with the idea, but they're working out the final details."

"Garcia, I can't stay with Hotch." I tried to reason. "He's my boss."

"No, he's your friend. A friend who wants to help you out." Garcia countered. Apparently she _did_ know me better than I thought, because she quickly continued, "You're in no shape to take care of yourself, and Hotch already talked to Jessica about letting Henry stay with Jack when everyone else is out of town."

"He's Hotch." I groaned, I didn't mean to sound disgusted, but it just happened to come out that way. It just didn't feel like that really could be happening.

"You'll just be there until we feel like you can function without being watched." Garcia explained. She made it sound like I was unstable. I could take care of myself. I could take care of my son--after all, that is what a mother does.

"Lets just talk about this later." I resolved. I was going to lose and I knew it. There was no point in arguing, but I still felt faint enough to put off the conversation until later. I at least hoped that when I did fight, though it would do nothing, I would give it my best go.

"Good idea." Garcia agreed. "We should let the rest of the team see you."

No, I did not want the team to see me, not like this. Not all hooked up to monitors and having every last sliver of sense-of-self stolen from me. Though I didn't want to admit it, I felt broken, and alone, and I was terrified to let anyone else see that. "Actually, I feel really tired. I think I need some sleep."

"Alright, sweet dreams." Garcia conceded as she walked out the door and flicked off my lights. As the beautiful darkness surrounded me, I felt safe. It was easy to fear the dark, all of the unknown and mystery it presented, but right now, it was what I needed. I needed life to not be apparent for a minute. It was easier to pretend that my life wasn't over when the lights were out.

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**_Thanks for reading! I really would like to know what you thought about it._**


	2. Denial

**AN-I really enjoy writing this story, so I hope you do too. Let me know what you think, or not :)**

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The next day wasn't any easier. I sat in bed all day, trying to entertain the unwanted visitors that kept popping up. They all said the same words, they all wore the same face of pity and sympathy, they all did the same thing ,and it was downright mundane. I hadn't pictured life in a hospital bed much, but I had always thought that being confined after an accident would be a little more entertaining.

I tried my best to keep my thoughts off of Will. It was easier to pretend that nothing had happened than it was to wallow. Not that I knew that from experience. I was determined not to wallow, I wasn't going to let myself. I read about how acceptance while difficult was cathartic from the pamphlet of the grief cycles that everyone kept giving me. While I appreciated the thought, I remained a bit skeptical. If I really was drowning with sorrow, wouldn't I need something a little bit more thorough than a pamphlet? It didn't matter, I wouldn't have read it if there had been a longer version. And despite the fact that I was now the proud owner of at least a dozen said pamphlets, I wouldn't read it anyway.

Apparently I was in denial, which I didn't believe. I felt too lethargic to be in denial. The brightest part of my day was when I finally got to see my son.

Garcia brought him over and though it sounds funny, I felt awed at how much he looked like himself. He didn't exhibit any trauma, any outside signs of grief. He didn't even seem to notice that his dad was dead. Maybe it was a genetic thing, like my biological mark in Henry was the one thing keeping him from grieving. I tried to reason with myself. _NO, he's two. Two year olds don't notice these things. _But I couldn't help but wonder at what point he would notice

With my shoulder, I couldn't hold my son--a fact that although it disgusted me, I was slightly grateful for. Garcia placed him on my bed for a few precious moments, but an angry nurse immediately sensed her precious monitors may be tampered with, and Henry was relegated to Garcia's arms.

Suddenly the doctor walked in, a short man with a superiority complex. Honestly, I couldn't stand the man, but luckily in my job, I had dealt with worse.

"Hi Jennifer, how are we feeling today?" He asked, making me want to cringe. I hated the way he talked down to me, like I was some child who had scraped her knee. What a jerk!

I would have shrugged instead of answering, but I had tried that earlier and my immobile shoulder didn't want to cooperate. "Fine." I answered noncommittally.

"Your tests all look good, and your friends have assured me that you have someone to look after you for the next couple of weeks, so let me sign the rest of this paperwork and you are free to go. Which I'm sure you're going to be happy about." He said, smiling brightly. I couldn't stand his smiling, _doesn't he realize that I just lost my soul mate? The only man I ever loved and who ever loved me? How can I be happy about that?_

I knew that it was ridiculous, not the entire world was dealing with the feelings I was. Maybe why I was so angry for others not being upset was because I was among them. I was trying to grieve, but my mind was still protecting me from the trauma I was going to go through. I hadn't felt grief yet, but I was sure that I was in for the ringer when it came. I both dreaded and anticipated it. I longed to be the girlfriend--the _wife--_I should have been. _Why wouldn't I marry him?_ The regret washed over me like a wave on the beach.

I looked over to Garcia, who nodded with more passion than I was currently capable of. I could see how badly she was torn, but I wasn't sure why. I waited for a moment until she muttered what was on her mind. "That's good. You'll be home in time."

"In time for what?" I whispered.

"The funeral." She choked out with a pained voice. "Will's-its tomorrow. The funeral is tomorrow."

My heart dropped deep inside of me. This didn't feel real. I couldn't possibly be about to attend the funeral of the man I loved. This could not have happened. There was no way.

The doctor seemed to be indifferent of how I felt emotionally, humming softly to himself as he continued his work. He just continued checking my charts, ignoring the dialogue between me and Penelope. I lived--now that my body was going to be alright, I was no longer his concern.

How could I go on? How could Will have just left me and Henry behind? He wouldn't have done that to me, I rationalized. He couldn't have. This was all just some big mistake.

"Jayje? I'm going to go call Hotch and the others and tell them you're being released." Garcia said carefully, as though the words themselves might crush me.

"Whatever." I dismissed, sure that soon I would wake up from this nightmare. Garcia quickly left, but was almost immediately replaced by a thin spunky nurse that I vaguely remembered from the night before.

"Okay, Ms. Jareau, we're going to get you into this change of clothes that your friends brought and then we can get you into a wheelchair so that you can be on your way." The chipper nurse said as she began disconnecting me from the different monitors.

"Oh, goodie." I said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice, but failing miserably.

By the time I was dressed and in the wheelchair, Garcia had returned with Hotch in tow and both were receiving instructions from the nurse. It took far more energy than I had realized, and for a task so simple, I was already shaking from exhaustion. I suddenly realized how helpless I was, and it didn't help the matter as she began handing me several slips of paper. "These are your prescriptions for your pain pills and physical therapy."

I looked up at Hotch for the first time since I became his charge. When I peered up, I saw the concern in his eyes and froze. So this is how it was going to go. Hotch would take upon himself to protect me. While I knew that Hotch would take a bullet for me, for some reason, I thought he would be far less emotional about this situation. He didn't often get sentimental, I expected for him to be the most hands off about this whole situation.

It looked like it would be me and the "Boss-man" for a while. I was sure that it was about to get interesting. How could it not? Me and my young son were going to move in with my boss and his son after a debilitating accident injured me and killed my fiancé. I felt like I was in a Lifetime movie. Now the problem was finding my way out.

When I got into the car--or more accurately, when Hotch carefully placed me in the car, I felt my heart pang involuntarily. The last time I was in a car--my thoughts had to trail off. I wasn't ready for this. I wasn't sure I would ever be ready for this.

* * *

Emily and Garcia came the next day to pick me up for the funeral. Hotch said he wouldn't be able to make it because of work, but I realized that he just wanted to give me space to grieve. While I was grateful to him, I didn't know why he felt the need to let me. I just felt so numb to it all.

As they pushed my wheelchair into the large church, it didn't seem real. It didn't seem real at all. I saw all of Will's friends and coworkers stare at me with pity. Pity that I didn't deserve. I knew he was dead, but I didn't feel it. I felt like any moment, he was going to waltz in and tell everyone that he was alright. Being Will, he'd say that the whole thing was a big misunderstanding and that they should go get drinks to celebrate him being alive. That was what felt like my reality, not the cold dark church, listening as everyone summed up his life in a few short words.

His friends called him unbreakable, though I'd seen him shed tears before. They said that he was patient, though I could tell them differently from all of the countless times he'd flip through the TV channels to find something to watch. They said that he was everyone's best friend, though I could remember when he would come home from work being frustrated and tired and angry. I remembered the good and the bad, and it seemed that no one knew the Will that I had spent a year and a half with. It seemed strange the stark differences between how they saw him and how I had.

Their impressions on the love of my life were very different from mine. They didn't mention how he used to whistle while he did almost everything. They didn't tell the congregation about how he could be a soft heart, especially when it came to his son. I was easily finding that he had let me in on the him that no one else saw. The Will he gave the public would be shared by all those around me, but the Will I knew, that Will was reserved just for me and Henry.

I wanted to cry out for all the things they were missing in this eulogy, but it felt wrong. There was no point in the woman who wasn't able to grieve criticizing those who could for doing it wrong. So, I sat there, numb to it all.

Even Henry was quiet as he seemed to know the solemnity of the situation. He would now be growing up without a father. This was so unreal.

Apparently Emily had helped Garcia put together the funeral, and they had collectively "decided" that I had experienced too much trauma to speak in my soul mate's memorial service. I still wasn't sure how I felt about that. Part of me wanted to get up and educate the audience to the man that William LaMontagne Jr was--the kind, caring man who hated shopping malls and got snippy when I wanted to look at shoes. I wanted to let them know how he would pick off the pineapple off a Hawaiian pizza, only to eat each piece before eating his pizza. However, I knew I couldn't share all of this. It was too special. I didn't know how I could explain my relationship with Will, and so I was grateful that all I had to do was sit there and play the grieving...fiancee? I definitely wasn't his wife, we had argued about that enough times, and I was more than a girlfriend, but I didn't know how to put into words everything that our relationship was. So I didn't.

I watched as they wheeled his casket out of the church, watched in an odd out of body experience as they loaded the oak box into the black herse. This couldn't be happening to me. I would wake up from this nightmare with my Will by my side.

I'm not sure how I got there, but moments later found me at the grave site with Garcia and Emily by my side. Tears began to flow down my cheeks as I made no attempt to stop them. "Why?" I cracked out as I realized I was now sobbing. Emily looked down at me as though her heart was breaking in front of me. There was no answer for it. She couldn't do anything other than place a comforting hand on my good shoulder. The few people in the cemetary looked at me with sympathy, but I didn't want their sympathy. I wanted Will. And that was something I wasn't going to get back.

* * *

Hours later, I found myself alone. Again. Was I ever really not alone? Garcia and Emily had together lifted me onto the bed of Hotch's guest bedroom on the main floor. I knew they thought I was asleep, so they tended for my small son while they waited for Hotch to come home and relieve them of their babysitting responsibilities. I wasn't about to alert them to my consciousness or the fact that it was probably time for another pain pill. The pain made me feel human, even if for a moment. I was grateful that I didn't have to deal with the faux smiles or fake promises that all would be alright. It wasn't going to be alright. It would have been better if we had both died in that car.

Suddenly, I heard the door open quietly and hushed voices trying to avoid waking me up. I strained to hear the conversation of which I knew I was the subject.

"How's she doing?" Hotch asked carefully from outside my door.

"As good as can be expected. She held up quite well at the funeral, and then struggled at the gravesite." Emily informed him.

"I just don't know how my little Sugar Plum is going to handle all of this." Garcia said sadly. "I just never thought this could happen to her."

_You and me both,_ I thought to myself as I continued to evesdrop from my immobile position on the Queen sized bed.

"It's tragic." Hotch agreed sadly, "but if anyone can get through this, it's JJ. She is one of the strongest people I know. She loves her son, and she'll make it through, even if it is just a day at a time."

I sat in awe of his steady voice of reassurance as their conversation drifted to the sociopaths that we deal with on a daily basis. Did he really think I could do this? Because I didn't. It felt nice to hear someone had faith in me, but I honestly didn't know if I could continue. Only time would be able to tell.


	3. Anger

**_An-- Here is the third installment on this adventure. While it doesn't seem like it because it took a while to update, this story has a special place in my heart. I trully enjoy being able to give JJ a voice of her own._**

**_AN2--12/30/2009--To anybody coming back to read the story, you'll notice I finally got around to combining the two "Anger" chapters. I tried to make JJ a little more angry in this, but I'm working on a new chapter for this story, so I didn't want to devote too much time to it. Thanks for reading!_**

**_In the thirty minutes since I've written my last disclaimer, I haven't found a way to procure the elusive ownership of Criminal Minds. Who knows? Maybe next time I won't have to write a disclaimer._**

* * *

"JJ? Are you going to be okay for a few minutes? I need to run to the store before work, but if you need me to wait until—" He began in his abnormally kind way. That was something I was beginning to get used to, that the Hotch I used to see everyday wasn't the Hotch he was at home. He was actually someone completely different. Unfortunately, I didn't care if Hotch was in fact nicer than usual, I wanted him to act like himself. Not some nice, but zombie like thing. Everyone tended to have that plastered smile lately that I just seemed to want to take my sledge hammer to. If I could lift a sledge hammer, maybe someone would be in danger, but seeing as I was a crippled invalid, I guess I wouldn't have been very forceful.

"Hotch, I'm fine." I insisted, realizing that I hadn't answered his question in a few minutes as I pondered whether I should feel annoyed or grateful for his over protectiveness. Ever since I had come to his house from the hospital, he had been watching me like a hawk. If I didn't take my pain killers by the time he was out the door, I was fed them. If I didn't get up as easily as he liked, he would make Morgan come and make sure that I didn't get into any trouble while he was gone. It was like I had a babysitter. But at the end of the day, I knew he was only doing it because he cared. So I tried to be understanding, not that I always was.

"Are you sure?" He asked again, not wanting to leave me to my own devices for too long. I mean, the horrors that could happen, I could have to go to the bathroom ALL BY MYSELF. I tried to quell the inner growl that seemed to rise within me.

"You should go. I will be fine." I assured him, though I didn't fail to catch the doubtful glint in his eye. "Really."

"If you need anything..." He began as I raised hy hand to him, interrupting.

"Then call your cell and you will be here in seconds. I know." I insisted. Hotch worried too much, I had taken care of myself for the first thirty years of my life, in theory you wuld think he would trust me to take care of myself for twenty minutes.

"Okay." He said, though he still seemed unconvinced. "But..."

"If you don't answer on the first ring, call Rossi immediately." I said, again finishing his thoughts. I had heard this spill nearly a thousand times and knew it by heart.

"Alright." Hotch relented. "But Henry..."

"Is with Garcia because she picked him up last night, and she is going to drop him off with the FBI daycare service where you'll pick him up after work." I finished yet again. "Hotch, really, I know."

"I'll be right back." Hotch said with a light smile. "Do you want me to pick up something tonight, like Mexican or Pizza or Chinese...."

"No Chinese." I interrupted firmly, with far too much intensity for even my own liking. "Everything else is fine." I tried to soften the response.

"Alright." He looked at me strange, apparently remembering all the times that I told him that Chinese food was my absolute favorite. But the beauty of Hotch was he allowed me to not say anything, knowing that I apparently didn't want to. "No Chinese."

"I will be back as soon as I can." He promised as though he hadn't said that a million times before. He grabbed the keys and walked out the door hurriedly, as though the faster he could get to work, the faster he could come back. _Goodie. _I thought to myself wryly as I silently hoped that he'd give himself an opportunity to breath in and out. He deserved it, while I was sure that living with me being an invalid and my crying child was a bundle of fun, he definitely deserved moments to himself.

* * *

He had been gone almost an hour when I couldn't stand it anymore. I couldn't stand being such an invalid. I couldn't stand being so dependent on everyone else to take care of me. I was hungry and Hotch hadn't fed me before he left. I resented that I had to be given my cereal by my grown boss, as if I couldn't pour my own.

I knew it was a bad idea the moment I stood up, I had only been doing the whole physical therapy thing for a few weeks and I could barely move without my wheel chair and so taking several steps was more difficult than I ever could have imagined. But I was determined. Reaching for the cereal, I felt my legs shake pathetically beneath me, I stumbled but caught myself on the corner of the kitchen table, I lowered myself carefully in order to avoid further injury.

I sat and rested for what felt like a mere second though the clock said it was nearly an hour and then tried again. Getting up was the struggle, I used my limited arm strength to push myself up carefully where I rested the entirety of my body weight on the table. Regaining my balance, I leaned over to the cupboard again reaching for the box of Raisin Bran which was precariously positioned on the top shelf. This had the same effect as my previous attempt, causing me to collapse like a fallen doll on the floor.

It took a little while for me to regain strength to try again, but I found it. Eventually. Almost immediatly as I tried to shift my weight I fell again. I was starting to find that playing brave didn't do anything, being courageous didn't do anything. I hurt far worse than I had originally thought I ever could.

I banged my head angrily against the cabinet. My cheeks flushing with a raw uncontrolled rage. With a sob, I steeled myself to try again. When I was trying to walk or doing some other tedious, painful physical activity, I didn't have time to think about Will. And I would take any physical injury before facing the emotional one that constantly tried to bore at my soul.

As I looked up to my initial goal, I pressed my lips into a tight, defiant line as the Raisin Bran came into view.

Before me stood the small cereal box, erect and unmoving, and I knew I was staring my enemy in the face. And I was pissed.

Because the little cereal box on the top of the shelf was mocking me, tantalizing me, goading me with its presence. It sat there _laughing _at me as proof of my incapability, proof that I would lose the battle of the wills.

But what Raisin Bran didn't know was that I, Jennifer Jareau, do _not_ lose.

Ever.

It was at this point I knew two things for certain. One that I wasn't going to give up on this, no matter how badly it hurt. And number two, that I was in for a long day.

* * *

"JJ?" Hotch called as he walked into the door of his house, Henry hitched to his hip. I immediately recognized the panic in his voice, it was the tone reserved especially for me. When he walked into the kitchen and saw me sitting on his floor, I could see the worry race through his mind.

"Hey." I stared up at him, trying to concoct some reasonable explanation why I was crumpled on the floor like a piece of discarded laundry. He sat Henry down in the play pin and ran into the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" He rushed over to my side, trying to help me back to my chair before I swatted him away.

"I am _not_ an invalid." I said firmly, turning away from his help as though he were diseased. Even I could feel the determination in my voice.

It felt nice for once to be powerful. To be in control.

"JJ, you're hurt. There's nothing to be ashamed of." He said sympathetically, the pity in his voice reverberating through the kitchen--I made a mental note that his sympathetic tone was my least favorite tone he possessed. "Here, let me help you." He held out a helping hand, but a just glared at him in response.

"I can do this myself." I insisted, trying to get to the chair myself, but collapsing on the floor.

"Argh." He moaned, battling between whether he should help me mentally or physically. "Why won't you just let me help you up?"

"Because I have to do it myself." I said firmly, letting it be known by the no nonsense tone in my voice that there was no room for compromising. "I need to do it myself."

"Can I spot you? That way when you fall I can at least let you down slowly." Hotch offered. I could tell by the look on his face that this was a huge leap for him.

Part of me insisted that I say no to him, that I do it completely on my own. But I could see from the look in his eye that this was the best deal I was going to get, so I might as well take advantage of it. "Fine." I muttered, allowing his hands to hover around me.

"On the count of three." I announced, hoisting myself to a squatting position slowly. "One, two...three." I cringed as I used the trunk of my body to carry my weight up. The moment I felt my legs buckle, I felt two strong arms surround me.

"Are you alright?" Hotch said, lowering himself with me to the ground.

"No I'm not alright." I snapped. "I can't get a stupid cereal box. Let's go again." I said, focusing my determination at the task at hand, not bothering to see his reaction

"JJ..."

"If you don't help me, I'm just going to do it myself." I whispered--though it came out as more of a grumble. He nodded reluctantly. I breathed in a few times, preparing myself for the agonizing pain I was about to endure.

"I can't believe I agreed to this." He mumbled.

The problem was, I could. Hotch was fairly easy to manipulate. I felt terrible thinking this after all he had done for me, but it was true. "On the count of three."

* * *

It took six more times. Six painful, thigh busting times, but I finally got to the box and back to my wheelchair by myself.

_How pitiful_. I thought to myself with disgust at how my body betrayed me. Though I couldn't help but feel a surge of victory over the cereal box.

"Well if that wasn't your work out for the day." I muttered, hating myself for being so weak. Realizing that my victory was complete, I discarded the Raisin Bran on the counter where I could reach it the next morning, though I had to fight to suppress the smug grin that I felt.

"It wasn't a problem." He said, waving his hand as if it was no big deal. "And now we have food." He went to pick Henry up and carrying to his high chair.

"What did you get?" I asked noncommittally. As long as it wasn't Chinese food, I was a happy camper. Well, not necessarily a _happy_ camper, but not an angry one.

"Mexican." He said as a smiled tugged at his lips. "I'd like to think we're going to have a fiesta." I had to grin at this, though I rarely felt like smiling these days. While I had always known Hotch to be the classic stoic, it was moments like these that I realized that Hailey was missing out on something special.

"Whatever." I whispered, suddenly feeling a pang for Will. It should have been Will who I was having a fiesta with, not my boss. I decided that Garcia might have just been wrong, things didn't always happen for a reason. Sometimes, things just sucked because that was life.

* * *

**Two weeks later**

"Reach, reach." The physical therapist encouraged, and while I tried to reach, I wanted more to kick him. Sometimes, people were just begging to be kicked.

"I _am_ reaching." I retorted, trying to keep my voice even although I could feel beads of sweat starting to pepper my brow.

"Come on, Jenny. You've got to push yourself." Pete, the physical therapist with a death wish, said condescendingly.

"I _am_ pushing myself." I said, not bothering to hide my irritation. "And don't call me Jenny."

"Oh, what are you going to do about it Jenny? Reach at me to death?" Pete scoffed.

"One of these days I will kick you where it counts." I threatened, knowing that it would be a while until I could reach my leg that high.

"That'll be the day." Pete muttered, further inciting my rage.

And while I wanted to do nothing more than wring my hands around his skinny, little, adrenaline seeking neck, I continued to reach, playing into his desperate game.

"Come on Jenny." He taunted. "Push harder."

Groaning, I continued to reach, unsure of how this all had befallen me. One thing was for certain, when my body could handle it, Pete was a dead man.

"Good work for today." He said after a while, giving me a bright smile like we had been having fun.

I nodded, fighting the urge to shout at him, though I ached to do so. Having grown stronger in the recent months, I wobbled out of the room, looking around for Hotch who had told me that he was going to wait for me. That was until I saw Morgan sitting there, thumbing through a copy of People Magazine interestedly.

"Derek?" I said, limping lamely over to him with my crutches.

"Hey JJ." He called back, never looking up from whatever he had been reading. "A case came up and Hotch is dealing with some locals. He sent me to take you home."

"Okay." I said, slightly disappointed. I'm still not sure why, I mean, its not like the ride home would be anymore eventful with Hotch than Morgan, but I suddenly felt a little uncomfortable.

He got up from his chair and walked me to his car, hovering a few feet from me at all times. Seriously, when Reid came over to watch me when Hotch had gone to get groceries, he had done the exact same thing. Stupid men who thought I was going to collapse at any moment.

As I moved myself into the car, there was a soft pang as put on my seatbelt in the passenger seat while Morgan threw my wheelchair into the back of his car. This stupid little strap was the thin line between life and death. Had Will been wearing his, there was a chance he wouldn't have...No, my mind couldn't dwell on the thoughts of the "could have been"s of the life of me and Will. He was dead and there was nothing that could change that now.

For the most part, we drove in silence, only making time for polite conversation at red lights and stop signs, as if the end of the motion of the car indicated time for us to talk. As he inched up Hotch's driveway, I was sure that he was going to just drop me off, leaving me to a few quiet moments of peace where I could stop pleasing people.

"Thanks for the ride." I said as I nearly bolted from the car, but I wasn't going to get out so lucky.

"Not so fast." Morgan warned as he opened his door. "Hotch would kill me if I just left you here alone."

"Morgan, I am a thirty-year-old woman, I think I can handle being alone for a few hours." I said with a serious look, one that he easily brushed off.

"Be that as it may, I'm still not leaving." He maintained, ushering me into my own--Well, Hotch's--home and leading me to the couch.

"So, what do you want to do? We could play cards, we could watch a movie---" He mused.

"Oh, so now you've taken it upon yourself to entertain me too? Morgan, I don't need you." I didn't mean for it to come out caustic, but it unintentionally did. I was tired and angry, and all I wanted was to be left alone.

"So now I get to play with pissy JJ. Great." He retorted, losing all facade of chirpiness.

"Pissy JJ?" I recoiled with horror.

"This whole little 'poor, little picked on me' routine isn't exactly new with you." He said seriously. "I've known it for years and its the only act you've had for months."

"Excuse me?"

"Sorry Baby but you are a one trick pony and we are all catching on to it." If Pete had a death wish, Morgan had a gun to his head, begging me to pull the trigger. "Tell me when I can see pleasant JJ again." And that's when I saw it in his eyes, his apology for snapping, but the words he said still dug into me, probably because they were still a little true.

"Oh, I'm sorry that I'm being unpleasant, Morgan, but we can't all be Pollyanna on uppers like your current ventures." I retorted sharply. "Will only died two months ago!"

"Look JJ, you've been through a lot. I get that, but you need to start getting over it." He said softly, causing my anger to grow exponentially.

"Get over it?" I spat, ready to tackle him at any moment. "My boyfriend--the father of my son--died because a stupid car wreck, and I'm just supposed to get over it?"

"JJ, I'm not asking for much---" He began to back track, but I was now of the offensive.

"No Morgan, you are asking for a whole hell of a lot more than much." I bit out. "You are asking me to turn my back on the only person I have ever loved."

"I get that JJ." He said icily. "I just don't want Will to be the last person you ever love."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that yes, what happened to you, it sucked, but sucky things happen everyday." Morgan said evenly. "And I don't want you to turn into one of those people who blame their lack of happiness on an excuse."

"Excuse me? MY BOYFRIEND DIED!" I bellowed. "Here I was doing the best I could, I was being the attentive girlfriend, I gave money to the poor...Hell, I even recycled and Will still died! How in the world does this happen to me? When everyday I'm facing serial killers who---Why is it me who ends up with the dead boyfriend!"

"JJ, sometimes things just happen, and you have to move on--" Morgan said, and I was sure that I was going to kill him.

"AND SOMETIMES YOU DON'T WANT TO MOVE ON." I screamed at the top of my lungs, hoping that he would soon just leave it alone. "Will is dead!"

"Yeah, but you are still alive, and I think Will would have wanted you to--" He began, this time a little more rationally.

"You don't know what he would have wanted. You don't know anything Derek." I said coldly, mustering all the anger with in me. "And now I think you should go."

"JJ, shit happens to everyone." He said softly. "And while, yeah, you do deserve to catch a break and be mad about this, it isn't who you are. You aren't the bitter widow type. And while I would love to be nice to you and let it all slide, I can't. I care about you way to much to allow that."

"Get out." I reaffirmed, though this time his words fell more carefully on my hardened defenses.

"Alright." He said, reaching for the door handle.

And while the anger I felt boiled within me, a small sliver inside of me decided to make her presence known. "Derek?" She--not me-- called tentatively to the man who had just caused so much turmoil.

"Yeah" He responded, pausing only for a moment.

"Thanks." I said stiffly, though I was still furious. Part of me didn't know if I would ever forgive Derek Morgan, but the other part of me appreciated his intervention so much, that I knew I couldn't live without him.

He nodded before stepping away, as if to acknowledge me.

And it was silly really, having this moment be so important to me when I was so angry, but it was like it opened the flood gate. Because for the first time in a while, a new, unfamiliar emotion washed over me. My cheeks suddenly felt...wet. And while I still felt angry, I was much more furious with myself than Morgan. Because I wasn't mad at him, I was mad at myself for not being mad. And the anger that I had grown so accustomed to, it was suddenly gone, and the void left was full of pain, and I honestly felt like there wasn't hope any more.

I knew that I was going to actually feel it eventually, that I wouldn't always be numb or angry, but that didn't stop it from feeling like a complete kick in the gut when the affray on my weak and helpless heart began. I always thought that while when I actually faced the truth that Will wasn't coming back, that I would still find some way to cope, to pick up the pieces of my shattered life and move on. Now I was finding, however, that everyone liked to think that they were the coping type, but I unfortunately wasn't. I was blindsided, and I had no where to turn. My life had been stolen from me and the only person who would have been able to guide me was now six feet under and cold in the ground.

And so as I sat in a pathetic, fallen clump on the kitchen floor. After moments, or days, I'm still not sure, I heard a soft pattering of feet enter. I knew the breathing within a heartbeat, and felt as a pair of strong, protective arms found their way around me, lifting me to my feet. Normally, I would have shrugged them away, protesting my independence, but not then. Not when I so badly needed to know that someone was there, holding me up.

"Hotch?" I whispered softly, my mouth having a hard job of making words as my face was pressed to his chest. I already knew that his shirt was going to be stained by my running mascara, but I didn't have it in me to care. I needed him so much more than I needed any shred of dignity. "I think I'm ready to be sad."

And before I knew it, the strong arms squeezed me closer, though I previously hadn't known it possible, protecting me from the world that had so grievously betrayed me.

"Its going to be alright JJ." He responded. "Everything is going to be alright." And I knew that someday, it might be. But that was a long ways away, because right then, I was ready to be depressed, and I couldn't move on until I did sad good and well.

* * *

**_An--If you want to leave a review, that definitely would make me happy. But hey, if you don't want to, I can't click or type for you. _**


	4. Bargaining

**_An/ So we have JJ in bargaining. In case you can't tell, I'm going through all of the stages of grief with this, so bear with me--it will get better. This story is a little depressing right now, but I promise, it does get better._**

**_I don't own any TV shows, let alone an awesome one like Criminal Minds. If that ever changes, I will keep you posted._**

* * *

Devastated.

That's all I felt anymore. It used to feel as though I had a gaping hole where my heart should be. Now, it just feels like this dark weight has rested on me, and I would do anything just to get it to leave. Instead, it grows heavier and heavier with each day. Maybe if I had been good enough, maybe if I had been a better mother or a better girlfriend--none of this would have happened. I couldn't help the feeling of lethargy, but I struggled to keep the lethargic JJ hidden. It should have been me. I should have died, and Henry would still have a father. Instead, I survived, and I'm not sure that it was a blessing.

"JJ, you need to eat something." Hotch instructed sternly as he saw me push around the dinner he had brought home. It was Chinese. I hadn't eaten Chinese since the night before it happened, and I didn't think I'd ever be able to eat it again.

"I've eaten plenty," I respond hotly, pushing the Orange Chicken around with my chopsticks. "I just don't feel like it."

"You haven't felt like it for almost a week and a half." Hotch pointed out, "Look, Henry seems to be enjoying himself."

I smiled as I looked at my small son in his high chair. Soft noodles seemed to be falling out of his ears, and he seemed far more content in playing with his food than actually getting it in his mouth. "Henry always enjoys himself."

"And Jack finished his dinner." Hotch turned to his son and smiled as Jack beamed proudly and nodded.

"At least eat a dumpling."

"No." I said firmly.

"Please JJ?" Jack looked up at me with the same dark eyes his father had. If I still had a heart, it would have broken. As it was, I smiled gently and shook my head.

"Pwease Momma." Henry added, mimicking Jack's expression. I bit my lip to stifle the sob that erupted inside of me at the sight of Will's dark blue eyes looking straight at me through the body of our son. Maybe if I had married him, things would have been different.

Hotch must have picked up on my unease because his next action surprised me. Wordlessly unlatching Henry from his chair, he turned to his son. "Why don't you and Henry go upstairs and get ready for a bath? I'll come up in a minute."

"Okay Daddy." Jack obeyed immediately with Henry at his heels. Bath-time was Henry's second favorite time of day--right behind dinnertime.

"Why?" Hotch turned to me, and though I had managed to avoid his question for days, I knew that I wouldn't be able to any longer.

"Because maybe if I never eat Chinese again, maybe I can wake up one day and this will all be some big misunderstanding." I said quickly, suddenly realizing how true the statement felt.

"JJ--" Hotch stopped, unsure of how to address my admittance.

"No. Stop. I know." I interrupted, unwilling to let him play the 'comforting friend' role. I wanted to be alone. I deserved to be alone. Because I did this to myself. If I had been a better FBI agent, maybe things would have turned out differently.

"I thought you liked Chinese." Hotch mused quietly, almost breaking my heart. Of course he was trying to do the nice thing...Of course.

"I used to." I said, getting up from the table freely as I was no longer restrained by crutches. "A lot of things changed." I called over my shoulder, if Hotch wasn't going to leave me alone, then I would leave. I didn't deserve his pity or compassion, and so I would have none of it.

As I hobbled past the bedroom that Jack and Henry were sharing, I could hear my son's joyous cries penetrating the door. I cringed, but I had to keep going. Hotch would give Henry a bath, and tomorrow he would pretend as if everything was alright. But it wasn't. I should be with my son, I should be the one who plays with him and gives him his bath. But I didn't deserve his unconditional love.

I deserved loneliness. And maybe, just maybe, if I had accepted this loneliness earlier, Will would still be alive.

* * *

Apparently I had become too much for Hotch to deal with on his own, because not thirty minutes later, Penelope and Emily entered his house just as he made some lame excuse that he had to pick up paperwork from the office. Typical. He did however, fear for my son's safety because he insisted on taking Henry and Jack with him. Apparently Will wasn't the only one who worried about what estrogen would do to my child--_Will._The very thought of his name brought a pang to my heart. I wanted nothing more than to apologize to my friends and spend the rest of the day but I could already tell I was supposed to be happy and smiling for Garcia and Emily--or Hotch would ground me. Scary how much he reminded me of my father sometimes.

"Hey Sunshine." Garcia squealed in typical Garcia fashion as she entered the living room, pulling out several DVD's from her oversized leopard print bag. "I have brought 'P.S. I Love You', 'A Walk to Remember', 'The Notebook', 'Message in a Bottle', 'Nights in Rodanthe'--"

"You do know that only one of those isn't a Nicholas Sparks novel, right?" Emily interjected teasingly, stifling a laugh. Garcia was a hopeless romantic. Emily was...not.

"I know." Garcia beamed--whether oblivious to Emily's sarcasm, or choosing to rise above it, I wasn't sure. "But I also happened to bring the fourth Die Hard movie, so we have some variety."

"I should have never doubted you." Emily chuckled, plopping down next to me. "Hey look at you! No crutches."

"Nope." I smiled stiffly. "Now would you two just tell me why you are here?"

"Hotch said that you could use some cheering up and--" Garcia motioned to her and Emily. "What cheers you up more than the two of us?"

"An entire bottle of Johnny Walker, Red." I answered, not missing the slight mutinous glare Garcia shot me. I could tell Emily was stifling a laugh, and I was reminded once again why Emily and I were friends.

"We are just going to ignore that latest jab." She announced to Emily who gave me a sardonic smirk.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Emily asked me quietly, ignoring the warning look Garcia gave about the topic.

"If I said 'No' would it matter?" I retorted, already knowing the answer.

"Probably not." Emily shrugged involuntarily. "But it couldn't hurt."

"I should have been the one who died." I informed them, trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice. I had come to this conclusion several days before and the response just kind of came out.

"I say we watch Die Hard, Morgan says its really good." Garcia quipped uncomfortably after a moment of silence.

"Sounds good to me." Emily agreed awkwardly, apparently not having my response in mind when she wanted to 'talk'. While I loved the two of them, I knew them too well. They didn't want to hear what was wrong. They wanted to hear how I was feeling so much better after seeing them and that this sad funk I had been in lately was just a passing phase. They wanted to hear how I would be fine and how soon things would be back to normal; but I wasn't about to lie to them. I wasn't about to fake a smile anymore. I was so tired of faking smiles.

"Did you know right before it happened he was talking about marriage again?" I said, ignoring their discomfort. Whether or not they were ready to hear it, I was ready to start telling it. "And of course I told him no. Who tells their boyfriend no when they propose?"

"JJ, you didn't know--" Garcia tried to soothe, but I would have none of it.

"Know that he would be dead moments later? Honestly I had no clue." I admitted, now fighting a few renegade tears. "Which is why I was such a terrible girlfriend to him. I never thought what my life would be like without him, I just went ahead and took him for granted. If I had married him, none of this would have happened."

"How is that possible?" Penelope asked in confusion. "You agreeing to marrying him wouldn't have changed anything."

"Its not your fault." Emily comforted, but I shook their lies out of my head immediately.

"But it is." I moaned softly. "If I had been better, if I had done more, if I hadn't been so awful, he would still be here. I was the one who wanted the damn Chinese that night! I was the one who insisted we go, even though it was late. Its because of me he's dead, and I wish that I were dead too."

"You don't mean that." Garcia whispered insistantly. "Promise me you don't mean that."

"I do." It was my only response. Suddenly, Garcia's eyes flamed and she turned on me like never before.

"Don't you dare say that." Penelope snapped bitingly as Emily wrapped a protective arm around me, I could tell I had struck a nerve and this sudden fear paralyzed me. Sometimes it was weird feeling things, like I had been numb for so long that I forgot what it was like to feel. "After all you have seen, how could you say that?"

"Because its true." I shrugged seeing the fierce determination in her eyes.

"Do you have any idea how blessed you are?" She asked, furthering her rant. "So many people die everyday and you survived! You did! Ask Reid, every day we are alive we are defying some serious odds. Hell being born alone is a miracle! So many people aren't nearly as lucky as you are. Yes, something terrible happened, but you're alive and you have friends who love you. You've got a son who worships the ground you walk on and you had a boyfriend who loved you more than anything in this world. Don't you dare say that means nothing. Go ahead and be sad but don't you dare act like its not a damn blessing that you are here to whine. I don't want to hear how it should have been you. I don't want to hear how you don't deserve this. I don't want to hear how you would give your life for his in a heartbeat. Because Will would have never wanted you to make that sacrifice. He would have never wanted you to blame yourself. So don't you dare act like he would have."

"You're right." I said, lacking all conviction behind the words. Garcia was right, I shouldn't be so sad to be alive, but I was. Vowing to avoid talking about my devastation, I determined that my friends' efforts earned the right to have me plaster on a happy face. They had been through too much to have to listen to my wallowing.

But now I knew something had changed within me. I no longer wanted to trade away my own existance. I was just far too tired for that. Right now, I felt just about too tired for anything.

"Let's start Die Hard." I muttered, Emily nodding in agreement. As the movie began, I gladly let the lethargy of my new found life wash over me, allowing me to feel only half alive. I had been numb for so long, but this, this was different. And as far as I was concerned, feeling half alive was a small improvement.

Feeling half alive was good enough for now.


	5. Depression

**_AN/ So, I have this fantastic structure planned for this story, but unfortunately, it makes it hard to update quickly. Props to all of you who are reading/enjoying this story, I appreciate the reviews._**

**_PS, I still don't own Criminal Minds._**

* * *

"Jayje," A calm voice ordered softly. "Its time to get up."

"No." I groaned, pulling the covers over my groggy eyes, hoping that if I could burrow myself deeply enough, then the offending person in my room would go away.

"Hotch says you need to get up today." He reaffirmed, his voice quivering slightly. "Apparently you haven't been up for days now."

"Reid?" I asked, peeking one eye out from under the dark blue comforter. Sure enough, it was him, carrying what looked like a list. "What are you doing here?"

"Hotch had a meeting with Strauss and you have physical therapy and--" He paused as he reviewed the paper at lightning speed, "Henry has a doctor's appointment."

"Go without me." I stated firmly, burrowing my head into my pillow.

"Hotch says that I'm not allowed to let you talk me into not making you go." He informed, pulling the blanket up off my left foot and tickling me lightly. I yelped, jumping up straight in bed. "He said that should work." The boy wonder mused, reviewing the paper and opening my second drawer.

"What are you reading?" I inquired curiously, while my hand worked open the bedside drawer.

"A list of things I am not supposed to allow you to do." He chirped informatively. "By the way, he did move the rape whistle, so if you are looking for that--"

Stupid Hotch knew me better than I thought he did. My face fell, defeated, wondering if I really had to do this. I could kick up a fight; it never worked before because Hotch just threw me over his shoulder caveman style when I got combative, but Reid didn't really have that much upper body strength. I could insist that I wasn't feeling well, but Reid and I had been friends long enough that I would feel much more guilty lying to him than I did when I lied to Hotch. My contemplating was interrupted as a red hoodie and a pair of sweatpants were thrown carelessly at me.

"Where do you keep your socks?" He quipped quickly.

"Top drawer on the left." I replied automatically.

"Why does it say I should only hand you one pair of tennis shoes?" Reid asked in confusion.

"That's for your own protection." I mused slyly as I remembered last time when I threw projectiles to get Hotch to go away. It wasn't my fault that I picked the stilettos...or that I have fantastic aim.

"Well, let's go." Reid said encouragingly.

* * *

"Jenny, you've really got to try." Pete tried to rile my anger, but I just didn't have it in me to disagree with him anymore.

"Okay." I didn't bother to try to hide the apathy in my voice. Nothing mattered anymore.

"Alright, I think we're done for the day." Pete conceded, obviously disappointed that I hadn't done as well as he had hoped. "But I really need you to be doing your exercises." He reminded.

"Sure." I said, not bothering to lie.

Spence eyed me warily as I returned to the waiting room as if I were going to break on the spot.

"Make sure she does her exercises." Pete cautioned the genius who nodded, though I could tell that the prospect of fighting me to do anything unnerved him deeply.

We moved quickly to the car. I had never been the type of person that loved going for Sunday drives, but ever since the accident, I _loathed _riding in the car. I felt my palms begin to sweat as I opened the passenger's door. As I buckled my seat belt, I fought down the nervousness that I was becoming accustomed to.

"Are you okay?" Spence asked me as he slid into the driver's seat.

He had obviously noticed how I clenched onto the door with every ounce of strength I had.

"I'm fine." I gritted out, hoping to get out of the car as quickly as I could.

"Okay. Let's get to the doctor." Reid said, trying to force excitement into his voice.

* * *

Exiting the doctor's office, I could barely bring myself to look at my son. I had failed him. He lost his father, and I had abandoned him. I should have known something was wrong, but I wasn't there for my own son. Reid could tell how upset I was, and thankfully kept his distance until we got to the car. Buckling Henry into his car seat, Reid easily slipped into the drivers seat, waiting for me to get situated.

I sighed deeply, loathing the contraption that had stolen the life of my soul mate. Buckling my seat belt, I clutched firmly to the door handle to ease my nerves. Apparently Reid decided he needed to attempt to console me, but I knew the truth. I was a horrible mother.

"Jayje, it's no big deal."

"Isn't it?" I snapped back, knowing that Spence didn't deserve me snapping at him, but I was too exhausted to try to reconcile my actions with my conscience.

"It's glasses. He needs glasses. It's not the end of the world." Reid pointed out. "Statistically, 3 out of 10 children have astigmatism. Henry's only two years old. You've caught it earlier than most parents." He consoled.

"Does it matter? I'm his mother, and I _missed_ it." I groaned, my voice full of self loathing.

"It's not as if--"

"It's not as if I hadn't kept on handing off my son to Hotch and Emily and whoever else the hell he's been spending time with, I would have known. Oh _wait_. It was like that." I watched as his body grew rigid. "I've got to be the world's worst mother."

Reid looked at me for a second. "Have you ever locked Henry in a closet? To protect him from imaginary villians?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" I asked, my eyes not meeting his.

"Have you ever locked Henry in a closet?" He repeated, "Or have you ever forgotten to feed your child for three days at a time?" Reid asked, a grim smile gracing his lips.

A sickening feeling hit my stomach as I realized where he was pulling these possibilities from. They were his realities. "No."

"Jayje, I love my mother, but you can be there for Henry in a way that wasn't possible for my mother."

We sat in silence for a moment before I admitted softly, "I just want it to all go away."

"You think I don't understand that?" Reid asked quickly. "I think I understand better than anyone else what it's like to just want everything--all the pain, all the memories--all of it to just go away."

"But it doesn't." I shrugged. "There is no way for it to go away."

"Isn't there?" Reid questioned quickly. His loaded question stopped me in my tracks. "Because I've found somethings in this world that do a pretty damn good job of making it all leave you."

"Spence--" I began but he held his hand to stop me.

"Drugs are popular for a reason." Reid stated. "I know that for a fact now, and you know what? They serve their purpose fine, they make it all go away--"

"Reid." I barked, trying to get him to stop. "Please--"

"But it doesn't come without a price; You lose yourself." He stated simply, looking into me with eyes that seared my soul. "And at the end of the day, the memories, the pain, all of it; its still there, just hiding behind a facade."

"I didn't mean to say--" I began to apologize automatically, but once again he continued without my provocation.

"And through all of this, now I know that suffering is there for a reason--because if life wasn't hard, then we would all lose sight of what we are capable of." He informed, and as soon as I heard the words I knew he was probably right. "Because the second you try to escape from the cards life deals you, you're under the control of an entirely different beast; one that is even more indifferent of you."

We remained silent for a moment, before I moved to say anything. "When did you become the genius?" I teased lightly, hoping to raise the mood from its current dismal, yet informative state.

"I've always been the genius." He smiled accepting my mild offering. "You're just too stubborn to realize it."

"For what its worth," I said seriously. "I'm really glad that you were the one to take me today."

"Me too." He said softly.

"Can I ask you something?" I whispered.

"You can ask me anything." He promised, nodding his head to indicate for me to continue.

"Do you think its possible to forget someone?" I inquired, my voice near inaudible.

"Physiologically, of course its possible. If we don't rehearse and use neural connections and networks, our brain automatically wipes them out, trying to provide for more room for the things that we find necessary for our survival." He answered honestly.

"Do you think I'm going to forget Will?" I questioned as his eyes grew wide.

"JJ--" He began, but this time, it was my turn to cut him off.

"He's not even the first thing I think of in the morning anymore. Its like I hurt but I don't know why, and then I remember what happened with him--" I confessed, fighting back a few tears starting to brim. "The hardest part is that now I know he's not coming back, and worse--worse is that the idea of him not coming back sounds almost tolerable."

"Acceptance isn't anything to be ashamed of." He said, but I shook my head in disagreement.

"Will was my soul mate, I'm not supposed to be able to live without him." I clarified.

"Sorry JJ, but I'm not going to condemn you for being happy." Reid informed me. "I'm not going to let you feel guilty for doing what everyone should do."

"But it feels wrong." I confessed.

"I know, but it won't always feel wrong." Reid said quietly.

"What if I fall in love with someone else?" I asked, my voice literally quivering.

"Wouldn't that be what Will would've wanted?"

"Its what he would have said he wanted." I explained. "But I don't know if he would have seriously wanted me moving on. Its just what people say to seem all self sacrificing, but in all reality, no one wants to be the body growing cold in the ground while their wife warms someone else's."

"Well, I guess you'll just have to cross that bridge when you get to it." He quipped, throwing the car in park as we reached Hotch's house.

"Reid?" I said as he helped me out of the car.

"Yeah." He asked over his shoulder after I was on my feet, now doting on Henry.

"Thanks." I smiled tentatively, before beginning to climb Hotch's front steps. "Really, thanks for everything."

"I'm here if you ever need me." He responded kindly. "I'm not used to this advice-giving side, but sometimes its nice to be the one who's needed opposed to the one who is in need."

As I watched him walk up to the door with Henry in his arms, I couldn't help but feel that he was much better at the advice-giving than anyone ever gave him credit for.

* * *

**_Next: Acceptance--then we start moving into the JJ/Hotch relationship starting. *Giddily dancing* :)_**


	6. Acceptance

**_AN/AHA! Admit it, most of you thought that this story would never be updated again, right? Well you were WRONG! But, I am simultaneously writing the next chapter, so I sincerely hope you will never ever have to go so long without finding the rest. And, just remember the KDZL committment--I will never leave a story unfinished. Unfortunately, I may get bored (which is why I'm not necessarily a fan of all of the endings to every story) but I will always resolve it. Let me know what you think. Enjoy!_**

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* * *

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A tentative knock startled me from the files I was studying. Looking up, I smiled at the profiler that stood in my doorway.

"Just thought I'd stop by to say 'Welcome Back'." David Rossi smiled kindly. "You moved into your new place?"

I smiled at the thought of the small condo that now housed all of my and Henry's belongings. "Yeah, Hotch said you helped move my old stuff from--" I trailed off, for some reason still slightly unable to make the connection between the reason for our move

Rossi waved a hand as though to dismiss my gratitude. "It was no big deal."

"Yeah." I was able to choke down the lump in my throat.

"I just wanted to say we missed you." He said casually. I was surprised to detect the caring tone in his voice. Many young agents were still in fear of David Rossi because of his sharp edgeds and constant gruff attitude. But he was just a giant softie at heart.

"I missed this place too." I admitted sincerely, not wanting to make him uncomfortable by making the conversation too personal.

Rossi just quirked an eyebrow questioningly and I couldn't help the light chuckle that bubbled from my throat. My eyes followed his gaze, sweeping the mountains of files that had piled up in my absence.

"Alright," I amended, "I missed _aspects_ of it."

He nodded in understanding and I was suddenly struck by the realization that David Rossi understood better than anyone what it felt like to leave the job and come back. This job--our job--it was like a calling. Something in your blood that no matter how long you stayed away, it would eat at you until the very moment that you stepped through the elevator doors.

"If you need anything, you'll let me know, right?" He questioned seriously.

"Of course." I smiled, though having no intention of doing so. I could handle it, and anything I couldn't handle, I would just have to figure out a way to make it work.

Apparently, David Rossi is a better profiler than I gave him credit for, because with one look I knew he hadn't bought my quick agreement. Wordlessly, he moved from the doorway to the chair on the other side of the desk and waited patiently.

"Rossi, I don't--"

"I know what you're going through." He said quietly, the pain in his eyes shocking me to silence.

"Dave, I--"

"I didn't say anything earlier--Hell, I didn't stop by earlier--because it was just too hard." He cut me off before I had room to question him further. "It never gets easier."

And suddenly, I understood. I had only ever heard about _two_ of David Rossi's horrible ex-wives. But it was common knowledge he had been married three times. My heart sunk for him, but I could feel the odd bond of kinship forging with each detail of his admission.

"Your wife?" I asked, prodding him since it seemed that he had fallen into a thoughtful trance.

He smiled softly and nodded, as though he were impressed with my deduction. "Wife number two. Anna." Her name rolled off his tongue reverantly. "I never thought I would be able to move on."

"How did you?" I asked. Gone were the nights when I sobbed uncontrollably. Gone were the days when I longed for Will to walk back through the door. But that didn't mean that I still didn't wake up and wish he were there to hold me.

"I don't think I ever did." He admitted honestly.

Stunned, I didn't know what to say. For the past few months, I had been told that the pain would lessen with time. But sitting across from Dave, I could see the pain in his eyes. I wondered how I had missed that before, how I had dismissed the cold look in his eyes for detachment. "Oh." I said lamely.

Dave chuckled inspite of himself. "I tried to throw myself into work. That didn't work. I threw myself at women, and that helped" He winked and despite the gravity of the topic, I giggled, "But not even that could make it better."

"So what am I supposed to do?" I asked him genuinely.

"Go on." I looked at him in surprise and he chuckled good naturedly, "I said _I_ never moved on. I tried." He admitted. "Probably not hard enough. But in the end, no matter what I do, Anna's death--_and her life--_still influence my decisions."

"But it doesn't get easier?" I asked, disappointed at the thought that this pain would be my constant companion for the rest of my life. Yet, at the same time, I felt an odd wave of gratitude that through bearing that pain, I would be able to offer some sort of pennance.

"Yes and no." Rossi sighed as he leaned back in the chair. "Remembering will always be hard. But it doesn't hurt so bad. Sometimes, something will happen and you'll feel a little pang, but it's not the mind numbing grief that I'm sure you've experienced."

I nodded silently.

"Just remember kiddo, I'm always here if you need to talk." He was gone almost as quickly as he came, and I felt a surge of gratitude for the wonderful people I had the opportunity to work with. And for the first time I thought that maybe this would all be okay.

* * *

It was nearly three hours later when another knock startled me from my second mound of paperwork. "I figured you'd forgotten about lunch." Hotch smirked as I looked at him sheepishly.

"Your food is always welcome here." I admitted, gesturing for him to sit across from me. He passed me a take-out bag and sat down, eyeing me closely.

"How's the first day back?" He asked, I could feel him scrutinizing my appearance to detect any hints of exhaustion.

"You know, you're not responsible for me anymore." I teased, cursing inwardly as I blushed lightly under his gaze. "I'm a big girl, I even have my own apartment now."

Hotch smiled softly. "I know that, I just don't want you to overdo it. You mean a lot to this unit." He said, and surprised me by his next admission. "You mean a lot to me."

I could feel my cheeks flushing further, and I had to force myself to meet his gaze. There was no awkwardness, no feeling of obligation to reciprocate his declaration. Touched, I smiled in appreciation before I had to avert my eyes. Trying to find something to keep my attention despite the fact I could feel his lingering gaze still upon me, I looked down at the lunch he had brought.

"Cheeseburger, no onions?" I smiled happily.

"And no pickles." He added, smiling smugly as I nodded in appreciation. Say what you would about Aaron Hotchner, but he knew my condiment preference.

And that said a lot.

* * *

Emily watched from her car as I stepped cautiously through the thick snow towards the reason for this exodus. I had insisted that I needed to come here, and Emily had offered (more like demanded) that she drive me.

I smiled as my fingers gingerly traced the words etched into the headstone. _William LaMontagne, Jr. _The crisp snow crunched at my feet, but I was determined. Despite the biting cold, this was something I had to do.

"I know, it's been a while." I smiled as I envisioned Will's warm smile at my long overdue visit. "It's been what--three weeks?" I know how this must look--me standing alone in the middle of a cemetary talking to myself. For once this winter, I'm oddly grateful for the mounds of snow and the cold weather that keep the other possible mourners away. In this moment, the cemetary felt private--intimate--and it gives me time that I can talk to the man I loved.

_"Three weeks too long if you ask me, Cher." _I could feel his voice beside me, his presence so real I could almost taste it.

"Henry's getting big." I blurted out, grinning widly as the picture of my little boy came to mind.

I could picture Will huffing out his chest proudly, _"He's a LaMontagne. 'Course he's getting big." _

"He misses you though."

I had been so caught up in my own grief, that I had missed how my son's behavior had changed since his father's death. He may have only been two years old, but he knew that his daddy was gone.

I could picture Will's Adam's Apple bobbing as he struggled to overcome his emotions. Will and Henry had been the best of friends. I remembered one night walking up to our bedroom at eleven o'clock at night to find father and son giggling as they lay on the master bed. Sending each to their respective corners, it had taken me almost an hour to get Henry to sleep. Will had been wired for the rest of the night.

"I miss you." I admitted, fighting an odd conflict between the stoic controlled mask I want to wear, and expressing the longing I'm desperate to feel.

_"I've been right here Jayje."_ I rolled my eyes, chuckling at how even in the way I picture him, he still hasn't changed. I'm oddly comforted by that--knowing that although it seems like its been forever since he was taken from my life, that I know I still remember him the way he was--not some glorified fantasy boyfriend. I had the real thing, a true soul mate who loved me and adored his son. Will wasn't perfect, but he was mine.

And now he was gone.

The harshness of reality cut into me, more biting than the frigid air.

"Why'd you have to go?" I sigh with frustration. I was met with silence. I knew I would be. As much as I could picture Will's loving smile or the twinkle in his eye as he stole the last piece of bacon, there was always that question where the answer eluded me.

Minutes must have passed, because I suddenly became aware of how much colder I felt. Pulling off a glove, I gingerly wiped away the cold tears. He wasn't coming back.

"I love you." I kissed my hand and placed it to the stone once more, trying to send my love into the cold ground with my touch. Wherever Will was, I just hope he knew how much I loved him.

Reluctantly, I offered one last glance to the resting spot of the man that had been my future before turning back the way I had come.


	7. Acceptance 2

**_AN/I first just want to say how grateful I am for the kind reviews. I was touched by your kind words, and hope that you continue to enjoy this story. The story should be on the upswing to happier times, so if you've thought that I'm a super huge downer, just know that it's looking up._**

**_Alright, I know that most of you have been waiting EVER SO PATIENTLY for me to finally get on with the JJ/Hotchness of this story. I hope to satiate your request with this chapter, and I know you're all dying with shock at having another update so soon, but I'm on a roll :)_**

* * *

"Henry, stop playing with your food." I chuckled, though my almost three year old paid me no mind. For a moment, I was hit with a pang of sorrow at how much he resembled his father. Will would be so proud to see him now.

Snapping myself out of my own thoughts, I groaned as the ringing doorbell alerted me that Emily was here. My new condo was only a few minutes away from Emily's and the older woman had insisted on the carpool routine we now shared. Though at first I balked at the threat to my independence, I was now largely grateful for the daily routine.

"Jayje? Henry? Are you ready?" She opened the door tentatively using the spare key I gave her.

"Yeah Em, we're just finishing up breakfast." I grabbed my son's plate from the table.

"Aunt Em'ly!" Henry cried with excitement despite the fact he saw her almost every day.

"Good morning Squirt." She ruffled his hair fondly.

"Henry, Go brush your teeth so we can go." I instructed, looking him over quickly and feeling incredibly happy that he hadn't made a mess all over his clean clothes.

"Okay Mommy." He scampered off obediently and I felt a momentary swell of pride as I heard the faucet turn on.

"You okay Jayje?" Emily looked at me cautiously as if she knew exactly what was running through my mind.

But the truth was, I didn't even know what was going through my mind. Will would have been so proud of Henry, and the reminder that Henry was growing up without a father hit me again with force that I hadn't expected.

"Jayje? Is everything alright?" Emily asked again.

Pausing for just a moment, I nodded, somewhat surprising myself. "Yeah, I'm fine."

* * *

I grinned as Hotch entered my office hours later and sat down across from me, fuming silently. "I can't believe you." He groaned, though it didn't take much at all to detect the boyish twinkle in his eye. "You set me up."

"I don't know what you're talking about." I feigned innocence, though it was difficult to contain my smirk. Luckily, I was trained at controlling not only my emotions, but conversations as well. "Now if you'll excuse me," I tried to dismiss him though I knew it wasn't going to work, "I've got quite a bit of work to finish."

"No." He folded his arms over his chest and his dark eyes flickered impishly, "Not until you apologize."

"Apologize? For what?" I tried to play dumb again.

"You know what." He growled, though I could see the corners of his lips twitch.

"Oh, you mean the benefit." I exclaimed as though the enlightenment had struck me.

"Yes. The benefit." He grumbled knowingly, "You told Strauss I would represent the entire _bureau_ at a charity benefit."

"Not just told." I reminded him, smiling broadly "I _committed _you_. _I committed you to represent the entire bureau at a charity benefit."If I were in different circumstances, I'd be dancing with glee. There were few times I could get Aaron Hotchner riled up like this, and I had jumped on the opportunity. I knew Strauss would make him go one way or the other--why not indulge my own sense of humor at the same time?

"JJ." He leveled a glare at me that held no weight. "You're going to pay for this."

"I'd like to see you try." I retorted, for some reason feeling completely emboldened.

He huffed slightly when he realized that I was correct in my assumption that he wouldn't be able to inflict bodily harm without consequences. "Fine. But you owe me lunch."

I smiled sweetly. "Where would you like to go?"

"I know just the place." He turned, and though I couldn't see his face, I couldn't help but feel that he was hiding something. "Come on, we can walk, it's not that far."

* * *

Walking out of the Bureau doors, I was silently grateful that I had thought to bring my gloves today. It wasn't freezing, but the snow had accumulated and there was a lingering chill in the air. "So where is this place?" I teased.

"Oh, it's over there." Hotch pointed, though I missed the direction. I fell comfortably into step beside him, surprised at how easy it was to be around him.

Suddenly, I felt his arms around my waist and I looked up in shock. "Hotch?" I went to say, but he was too quick. With a sickening feeling, I knew exactly what was happening before it did. "Put me down!" I shrieked in between giggles as he heaved me over his shoulder.

"I do believe that I promised you'd pay." He said with a chuckle in his voice as he walked us over to a large bank of freshly fallen snow.

"No!" I cried as I spotted the snow pile, but my cries fell on deaf ears as he threw me gently into the snow.

"Aaah!!!" I cried as the cold wet snow miraculously found a way to infiltrate its way down the back of my coat.

Hotch chortled heartily and I glared at him, all the while fighting my own grin at the uncharacteristic display of affection. Although I had moved out of his home, Hotch and I grew closer with each day. What had begun as a treasured friendship had blossomed into something that I didn't recognize--but enjoyed.

He held out his hand to help me up. "See, I told you I'd make you pay." He gloated.

I sulked outwardly, and beamed mischievously inwardly. Guys always made the same mistake--celebrating before the victory was won. Luckily, I had years of experience at masking my emotions. Grabbing his hand, I allowed him to think he was going to help before yanking him down on the snow next to me. I cried with giddy as my plan was executed flawlessly and Hotch crumbled next to me, stunned by the sudden reversal. For good measure, I flung a handful of snow back to his face.

That seemed to alert him and he jumped to his feet. But I already had a head start and jolted down the walk.

Luckily after years of playing soccer in college there was no way he was going to catch up with me.

* * *

I couldn't help but grin as I flipped through the next case file on my desk. After our romp in the snow, Hotch had taken us to the deli down the street where we both got soup and laughed over the speech he was going to have to give at the end of the week.

"JJ, I have the consult for the Arlington PD, but I can't seem to find their phone number." Rossi barged into my office and plopped down on the chair across from me.

"It's on the last page of the file--where it's always been." I rolled my eyes at his obvious attempt to segue into whatever topic he wanted to discuss.

He smirked as if he hadn't really expected her to believe his initial reasoning, but it wasn't like him to not try in the first place. "So--?"

"So what?" I asked, rolling my eyes. I'm not sure when Dave decided he wanted to get in on 'Girl Talk', but he still wasn't very good at it.

"So, you seem happy." He observed, smirking knowingly.

"Is that what you came in to talk about? That I seem happy?" I retorted, not willing to give in to his subtlety.

Rossi chuckled under his breath. "No, I guess not. I just wanted to know how you're doing."

"You see me every day." My attempt to shrug him off only seemed to annoy him.

"Alright, out with it." He commanded, abandoning all appearances of subtlety. "What's going on with you and Hotch?"

"Nothing." I said, cursing the fact that I couldn't hide the grin from forming.

"So you want me--a nationally recognized profiler--to believe that there is _nothing_ going on between the two of you?"

"I would expect you to believe it because it's true." I retorted. I know it was lame, but it was the best I had--he was starting to wear me down.

"Sorry JJ, I'm not buying it. What's going on?" He pressed.

Groaning, I realized that he was never going to let this go--he was as bad as Garcia that way. "Fine. We're meeting for dinner tonight."

"But didn't you have lunch together today?" He asked smiling genuinely, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Yes, but that was about business. This is just the two of us being friends." I explained as though it were completely reasonable.

"Sure." He said disbelievingly. "But tell me this, do you like him?" I could tell Rossi wasn't quite sure how to play this situation. Hotch had been his friend for years, and since Hailey's death, he desperately didn't want to see the younger man get hurt again. Neither did I to tell you the truth.

I pondered the question and answered hesitatingly. "He's a good friend." I admitted finally, though I could feel a slight blush creeping up my cheeks.

"And?" He prodded, not bothering to wonder if he was pushing his boundaries too far. I was grateful that he knew that I'm not type of person to allow herself to get pushed around. If I didn't want to answer, I wouldn't. But in the months since his revelation to me, I had confided in him more than in times past. It wasn't as if we were close confidants, but we shared a bond that many would never understand.

"And, yeah. I like him. I'd like to see where this goes." She admitted, the blush deepened.

"Good for you." Dave smiled, and I could tell he was genuinely happy for me. "Just remember: Everyone deserved happiness in this life, and no one is more deserving than you."

"Thanks Dave." I felt a wave of gratitude overtake me as he stood to leave.

He paused in the door frame and looked at me pointedly. "No one is more deserving than you." He repeated, "Except maybe Hotch."


	8. Depression 2

_**AN/ *Cringe* Okay, so I decided to relax the rigid structure that I had for this story to let it flow. I've kind of half assed my way through the end of certain stories (you can probably figure out which ones if you read them) and I didn't want to do that with this story. SO, I hope you enjoy. Sorry for the delay.**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything**

"Are you ready to go?" Spencer asked me as he climbed into the driver's seat. For the first time in months, the team was so bogged down with interviews and profiling duties that Hotch reluctantly sent me into the field to interview a witness with Reid. I could tell that part of him was searching for any way to get around sending me into the field, but I also felt a swell of pride that I was able to get out of the precinct.

"I'm ready for anything that gets me away from Detective Shaffer." I chuckled slightly at the truth behind my words. Some men just didn't get the hint.

"Really?" He asked me, surprised. "I thought the two of you were hitting it off."

"Um, no." I corrected him slightly, feeling an involuntary blush creep up my cheeks. Thankfully Spencer was focused on the road in front of him, otherwise I may have recieved questions I wasn't ready to answer quite yet.

A moment of silence befell us as each of us was lost in our own thoughts.

"How's Henry?" He asked, clearing his throat.

I couldn't help the grin that errupted. "He's good. His favorite thing is to lose is glasses. I've found them tucked in various drawers and yesterday, he tried to flush them down the toilet."

Reid laughed. "You know, some researchers have found a positive correlation between children who--"

"Spence, stop." I interrupted. Despite how much he loves his godson, I didn't think I could take any more of his possible theories as to whether Henry would grow up to be a genius. There was too much pressure, and I had too often found myself wide awake at three in the morning worrying about what I would do with a genius child. "I think he's pretty smart too."

Reid beamed proudly and I thought for a moment how I was closer to the man next to me than my own brothers.

"What did Hotch tell you before we left?" I asked, suddenly hit by the oddity of their earlier exchange.

I was surprised to see a blush rush to his cheeks. "I don't think I'm supposed to tell you."

All I had to do was arch my eyebrow in question. Reid didn't stand a chance and just like expected, he caved easily.

Or so I thought.

"I'm not going to tell you." He insisted, smirking as he realized that I hadn't anticipated that response.

"Sometimes, Spencer Reid, I really hate you." I grumbled, despite the smirk that betrayed me as I tried to contemplate Reid and Hotch's interchange.

* * *

"Jayje, can I ask you a question?" He asked as I turned the SUV onto the highway after our interview.

"Why don't I drive more often?" I anticipated the question that was at least on my own mind. "I would tell you that I am not sure because--"

"No." Reid laughed. "I get that."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I retorted hotly. The entire

"Erm. Nothing. You're a great driver." He assured me placatingly. Part of me wanted to laugh at his quick, calming response. The other part of me was immediately defensive of my own driving.

After a moment of silence, my curiosity was piqued. "What did you want to ask?"

"It's probably too personal." He cringed and I couldn't help but smile. Spence had never been good at the whole "social grace" idea and we had already had many conversations about which topics were appropriate for friends to talk about.

"No, ask me anything." I shrugged, feeling in no particular sense of modesty. With Spencer Reid, I was never sure what topic was about to come up, but it was usually interesting.

He hesitated, but I could tell he desperately wanted to ask me whatever was on his mind. "Well, after I talked to Hotch, I've just been wondering--"

"What did you talk to Hotch about?" I asked casually, the curiosity still driving me crazy.

Despite the length of time between our earlier conversation, apparently Reid remembered his firm stance. "I'm still not telling you." He smirked to himself proudly.

"Damn." I murmured under my breath.

"Anyway." Reid continued, "I was just wondering what's going on between you and Hotch." He stated as if he had come to an important conclusion.

"Was that a question?" I hedged, not entirely sure myself what was going on between me and our boss, glancing over at him, I could easily tell he was not about to be dissuaded. Sighing, I relented. "I'm not sure." I answered honestly. "He and Jack come over sometimes, and its just nice to have someone who understands." I said honestly.

He nodded, and out of the corner of my eye I could see his Adam's Apple bob a few times as he processed my answer. "Good."

"Good?" I smiled, glancing over at him questioningly. "What does that mean?"

The genius shrugged, "I think you've been through enough. I'm glad Hotch can be there for you."

I smiled slightly as I thought back to the night before this case when Aaron had brought Jack over for dinner. That night, things just felt right.

Several minutes passed before I realized that I had once again fallen into silence. Breathing deeply, I blurted out the thought that had been haunting me for weeks. "Do you think Henry remembers?"

"Remembers what?"

"Will." His name came out as a reveranced whisper and an awkward silence befell us as the genius doctor Spencer Reid contemplated the loaded question that I had laid on him.

"Many scientists believe that the synapses in the brain for memories don't form until the age of three or older." He said slowly, "But some people have reported memories from much younger ages, so yeah. I think it's possible."

His response lifted a weight I didn't know I was carrying. I had worried that Henry wouldn't remember his father, but more than that, I continued to worry that I wasn't enough for him. "Do you think I'm wrong for coming back to work?" The question was out of my mouth before I could stop it.

He paused for a moment. "JJ, I think that's a question only you can answer." He deflected.

I sighed, silently agreeing with him. "I know. It's just, I'm the only one he has left, and I worry that if I'm always gone for work--what if he doesn't know how much I love him? What if he doesn't know how much his dad loved him? What if I'm relying too much on Hotch and everyone else to be a good mother to my son? What if--" My thoughts trailed off as I was unable to voice the demons that had plagued me for nearly a year.

Reid must have sensed I was unable to continue, because suddenly he spoke up in the quiet wisdom that I had come to respect. "Would you like know what I think?" He asked.

All I could do was force my head to nod as I focused on the road ahead of me. I could feel my fingernails dig in tightly to the steering wheel, but it felt good to get these questions answered. If not by Reid, then to answer them myself.

"I think that you're a great mother, and for now, that has to be enough." He said sagely. "You can wonder about the 'what ifs' for years, but as Steve Loney said, '_The what ifs will kill you'._"

"What is that supposed to mean?" I asked, probably a little too harshly.

"It means if you're always focused on what could have happened, you'll never be able to move on." He smiled encouragingly as we pulled up to the precinct where the other members of the team were waiting inside.

"Since when do you know what a football coach says?" I asked after a moment, the quote he had used earlier finally registering in my mind.

"You'd be surprised what I know." Spence smiled easily before getting out of the car, grinning mischieviously.


	9. Bargaining 2

AN/I know, I know, many of you gave up on this story because its been so long since I updated. BUT, I didn't.

* * *

I sat in my office and craned my neck. _No. This isn't happening. It's too soon. _I scolded myself as I forced my eyes to focus back on the file in front of me. _I am not falling in love with Aaron Hotchner._

"Jayje?" Garcia poked her head into my office, "you still planning on tonight's extravaganza?"

"Oh, about that..." I scanned my mind for any possible excuse I could come up with. It wasn't that I didn't want to spend time with Penelope and Emily alone, I just was _not_ looking forward to the third degree I knew was in store.

Nor did another _'Chick-flick-athon'_ seem like something I was remotely interested in.

"Don't even try JJ." Emily shook her head, coming in and sitting across from me. "Someone here's already gotten a stack of movies and a case of chocolate for us to go through. I don't think you'd get out of this for anything."

"Nope, I've already contacted every detective within a thirty mile radius, and each one assured me there will be no matters of national security that will require your attention." Penelope winked, "So let's get this show on the road."

Groaning, I looked at the clock and realized I had no chance for escape. "Alright, but I'm not paying for takeout this time."

* * *

"Alright Jayje, spill." Penelope commanded me as she plopped down on the couch with Twizzlers in hand.

"Spill what?" I asked, knowing exactly what she was asking, but desperatelyt trying to find a way to avoid the conversation.

"You, Hotch, the rare and pure animal magnatism that draws the two of you together like magnets-"

"I don't know what you're talking about." I said, despite the slight blush I could feel rushing to my cheeks.

"Stuff it Cream Puff, I know you're lying." Penelope rolled her eyes, pointing the strand of licorice at me. "And you're not getting out of here until you supply me with all of the juicy details that make my heart jump with happiness."

"Come on Jayje, we're dying for a little dirt." Emily pleaded in agreement.

"He asked me out." I admitted finally, fighting the twinge of blush that began to creep up my cheeks.

"Really? Like on a date?" Emily exclaimed in excitedly. "That's great."

"Is it?" I asked, knowing that if anyone would let me voice the concerns that plagued me, it would be my two friends.

"Of course it is, Sweetie." Penelope responded immediately, looking at me curiously.

Apparently detecting the doubt in my eyes, Emily looked at me curiously. "Why wouldn't it be great?"

I sighed, not wanting to disturb the fun mood my friends were in, but also knowing that I would get no rest until this matter was resolved. "I just feel like maybe, maybe I'm not supposed to date Hotch. I mean, really, Will's only been gone-"

"A _year._" Garcia interrupted. "He's been gone a whole year and you're just _thinking_ about someone else. That's not wrong."

"It feels wrong." I admitted, seeing the questioning glances in my friends' eyes, I felt compelled to explain, "It feels like I'm cheating on his memory. That maybe I've already had my chance and now-"

"Now you are destined to a life of loneliness?" Emily supplied, and I couldn't help but feeling that somehow she knew exactly what I was talking about.

Wordlessly, I nodded.

"Oh Jayje, you can't really believe that!" Penelope looked at me in horror, "you're only 34. You've got an entire life ahead of you."

I shrugged, not needing to explain anymore. Emily bit her lip and I could easily see that she was trying desperately to find the right words, "Jayje, I-"

"You don't have to say anything." I waved her off, suddenly feeling the need to give them an out. What more was there to say?

"No, Jayje, I just want to ask you a question." Emily replied seriously, "If it had been Will who lived, if you had died instead of him, what would you want?"

"Em, I know what you're trying to say-" I groaned inwardly.

"Would you just answer the damn question!" Garcia barked uncharacteristically, then smiled to let me know she was only kidding. "Seriously Jayje, what do you think you would want for Will?"

I sat back, slightly floored. I had never thought of it like that before. "I guess," I started, thinking deeply, "I guess I would want him to be happy."

"And if he had waited an entire _year_ before even going on a date, would you hate him?"

"No." I smiled, feeling a weight of relief that was quickly replaced with a new problem. "But what if _I'm_ not ready to move on?"

"Well that's just going to have to be something you figure out for yourself." Emily advised sagely. "But you're never going to find that out until you try."

* * *

I smiled at Hotch as I sat down across from him in the small Mexican restaurant. I tried to quiet the fluttering in my stomach, but it only seemed to get worse once he smiled back at me. "Hey," I offered lamely, feeling somehow compelled to start the dinner conversation.

"I hope you like Mexican," Hotch grinned. "Dave told me this place is one of the best in the city."

"And you're taking Dave's advice on food establishments now?" I scoffed lightly. "You do remember that time in Baton Rouge?"

"Oh!" Hotch groaned, I could practically see his stomach rolling over in protest. "Don't remind me. The entire team came down with food poisoning."

"Not to mention I've never been able to look at fried chicken the same way." I chuckled.

Grimacing, Hotch shook his head, "Dave promised me that this place was much better."

I laughed lightly, "If it's not, I'm going to get even with him-mark my words."

Dinner conversation flowed quickly and easily, and I couldn't help but feel like Hotch understood a piece of me that I hadn't known existed. I felt myself burn with attraction as our date quickly ended with the promises of dates to come.

As I closed the door at the end of the night, I sighed and leaned against it-grateful that Garcia was watching Henry all night long.

Because now I had all night to convince myself that I wasn't falling in love with Aaron Hotchner.


	10. Anger 2

Chapter 9

A month later, I found myself nervously waiting for Pete's approval to let me return to work full time. Once I had demonstrated my full range of motion, I waited anxiously for his response. While I had been back at work for months, I was on modified assignment until Pete sighned off on me returning back to the field.

"Well, Jenny" Pete's face was impassive until he smiled teasingly, "Everything looks like it's fully healed. I think this is our last session."

"Really?" I could feel my eyes grow wide with excitement. I tried to hide it, but I'm sure Pete could easily detect my glee.

"Really. You've got full use of your leg again, and everything is back on track. I'm fully confident you would easily pass a Bureau Physical" Pete sat back in his chair proudly as if to say _I told you so._

"So you'll sign off on me going back into the field?" I didn't even bother attempting to hide my anticipation this time. The chance to get my gun back and get back into the field was far too exciting.

Pete pretended to consider her question thoughtfully, "I don't know, I mean dead bodies?" He winced, "You deal with some pretty bad stuff, we _could _keep you out of the field permanently..." He mused, the twinkle in his eye letting me know he was simply trying to get a rise out of me. Unfortunately, I had spent far too many hours stuck behind paperwork to find his needling humorous.

"Don't you dare." I rolled my eyes playfully, despite the momentary shudder that ran through my body at the thought of more paperwork and time out of the field. "I swear, if I have to stay back at one more police department with a member of my team-"

"Easy Jenny." Pete winked, "Alright you've convinced me. The paperwork will be on your supervisor's desk in the morning."

A grin split across my face, I was finally getting my life back. Standing, I quickly thanked my physical therapist that had not only become a thorn in my side, but a close friend. "Oh, and Pete?" I asked, smiling innocently.

"Yeah Jenny?" He looked up from the paperwork he was signing.

"Don't call me Jenny."

* * *

I sighed as I snuggled closer into Aaron's chest as we lay watching a movie on the bed we had shared for almost two weeks now. The kids had long ago fallen asleep, and the quiet evening at home had reminded me just how happy I was. While I had yet to "officially" move in, I hadn't spent the night at my own apartment in a while. But something had been bothering me, and I just couldn't get it off my mind. This felt so right, just like it should-and yet...

"What's wrong?" He asked, easily picking up on my sudden discomfort, pausing the film.

"Do you think that you and I were destined to be together?" I asked, not sure why I felt the need to discuss our fragile relationship. Once I voiced the question, I realized how desperately I needed the answer. While things had been moving fast, we had yet to discuss where things were going, and what they meant. Now, I realized I had avoided this talk before because I was afraid.

"Do you want me to answer that honestly?" Aaron smiled as he curled his fingers around my own.

"What do you think?" I scoffed, slapping him lightly on the shoulder while I took a handful of popcorn with my free hand.

"Honestly?" He asked again.

"Yeah. Do you think that we were meant to be together?" I insisted. I'm not sure why I needed this answer right now, but it was suddenly something that couldn't wait. If I had been afraid before, now I just needed confirmation.

"When Haley and I dated, I didn't think I could love anyone as much as I loved her. It was easy, it was expected, and things just fit." He hedged after a moment.

I quirked my eyebrow in surprise. If I honestly thought this conversation would turn to Haley, I wouldn't have brought it up at all. However, Aaron wasn't one to completely avoid a difficult question, so I decided to let him continue. "And?" I prompted.

"And I never pictured my life with anyone else." He admitted softly. "When Hailey and I got married, it was if the stars had aligned and my future was ahead of me, laid out in a perfect line."

"Oh." I replied in confusion. If I had any idea where he was going with this, maybe the nagging feeling in my stomach would go away. All he had to say was _'Yes JJ, it's destiny' _or something just as romantic. Leave it to Hotch to make everything more complicated. "So you thought you and Haley were soul mates?" I asked in confusion.

He nodded, taking a drink of beer before placing the bottle back on the coaster. "I knew Hailey and I were soul mates." He amended. "But I was wrong."

I beamed inwardly, leave it to Aaron to be the closet romantic. "You were?"

"Yeah. When Haley left me, I realized something. There are no soul mates. Destiny, fate-it's all a myth-love is about hard work." He explained.

"How can you say that?" I asked feeling the frustration in my own voice. I ripped my hand out of his quickly and recoiled as if I had been burned. "That we're just-just nothing?" I sputtered.

"JJ, that's not what I meant. Let me finish-" He admonished.

"No. I know what it's like to be in love. To have fate place someone in your life and to just be happy." I spat. This wasn't about soul mates, this was about Hotch not believing that we belonged together. Obviously I thought we meant more to each other than we did.

"I'm not sure what I did wrong, but-" He looked at me in confusion.

"Hotch, I had a soul mate, someone I was supposed to be with for the rest of my life. He died." I said weakly, my own heart shattering.

"He did?" Hotch's lips pursed tightly, the implications hitting him. He might not believe in soul mates, but I did.

"And fate just took him away. So-"

"So that's it? Soul mates or nothing? You and Will were soul mates and so we can't be anything? Is that what you're really telling me?" Hotch interrupted, trying in vain to mask his own hurt.

"It's the way it has to be." I answered. I would settle for nothing less than destiny, and if Hotch didn't believe in us, then there was the answer I was searching for. "If Desting didn't-"

"Who cares about destiny?" Hotch exploded angrily. "JJ, this is ridiculous! If I heard right now that you weren't my soul mate, I wouldn't care. I wouldn't be angry. In fact, I'd probably admit that they were right." He held up his hand to stop me from interrupting, though in reality it was like trying to raise a hand to stop the Mississippi River.

"How is that supposed to make me feel better?" I asked angrily, "Hotch, maybe we rushed into this too soon, maybe-"

"It wouldn't matter because I love you more than I could love any soul mate. I would rather be with you than anyone else, even someone who was perfect for me. JJ, I don't want a soul mate, I want you."

My eyes widened in shock and I sat there gaping widely as the anger washed out from under me.

"If fate came up to me today and pointed me towards my 'soul mate' and told me that I was supposed to be with them for the rest of my life, I would turn right back around and choose you every time."

"You would?" I asked meekly.

"Absolutely." He smiled assuringly. "I love you JJ, and I'd rather spend the rest of my life working as hard as I can to make our relationship work than to try and see what 'destiny' has in store for me."

"Would you?" He countered and I could feel the question burning against my heart. This was it, this was when I could either accept the growing relationship between me and Hotch, or I could push it aside before it had a chance to blossom into something beautiful.

"I don't know." I admitted weakly.

"Then I'll be waiting here until you do." He smiled, though I could see him deflate slightly.

"Aaron, wait-" I tried to amend, hoping to explain.

"JJ, it's fine." He stood quickly, waving off my concern. "But maybe I'll go sleep on the couch tonight." He turned as he reached the bedroom door, "I love you JJ, and I'll wait for you to decide what you want. But I can't wait forever."

With that, he turned and shut the door. I gaped after him, hoping that I hadn't just let the best thing in my life walk out the door for the last time.

* * *

I was sipping coffee in the break room, deep in thought, when Derek came up to the coffee maker. "Out of my way." He commanded gruffly, obviously having missed his own morning brew.

"Long night?" I scoffed, easily detecting the patented "Derek Morgan Morning After Smirk".

"You think I'm going to share the juicy details before I've got a full cup of coffee?" He scoffed, "think again."

The two of us stood in silence, each contemplating the night before. "How was your night?" He asked after a minute.

I sighed and bit my lip, unsure of whether I should confide mine and Aaron's argument from the night before.

"Come on Jayje, ask Mr. Morgan-the _love_ Doctor-and he'll make it better." Derek teased.

I laughed. "Derek, do you believe in soul mates?"

"Nope."

"Really, that's it? Just 'nope'?" I scoffed.

"Well Jayje, let me ask you. Would you rather choose to be in love with someone, or have it decided for you without a choice?"

"When you put it that way-" I laughed.

"No, I'm serious." Derek leaned against the counter thoughtfully, "I've dated plenty of girls, but I haven't ever felt like I _wanted_ to fall in love with them. Love is a choice, and it's something people have to work at."

His words struck me, and I rubbed my chin thoughtfully.

"Can I ask you something?" Derek asked.

"Of course."

"You and Will were happy right?"

I nodded, unable to articulate any words that could really explain the way that mine and Will's relationship had felt.

"But you didn't want to marry him?"

"Are you trying to throw that back in my face?" I retorted sharply, slamming my mug down on the counter. I was about to storm out of the break room when I felt his strong arm pulling me back.

"Just wait Jayje, I'm serious." He looked at me kindly, "Why didn't you want to marry him?"

"I don't know!" I spat.

"Well maybe you need to figure it out." Derek suggested as he patted my arm. "Until then, you just might never know."


	11. Denial 2

_**AN/Really, I know you thought I never would finish this story, but it's ALMOST done! There is one chapter left, so there. :)**_

* * *

"Alright boss man, spill." I heard Garcia command just as I was about to enter the break room.

Hiding myself around the corner, I smirked as I pictured Penelope backing Aaron against a wall as she pressed him for information.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I could hear Aaron's failed attempt to dodge the question. Rolling my eyes, I shook my head in disbelief. If he honestly thought he'd satisfy Garcia's taste for gossip with that answer, then he'd be in for a wild experience as she dug for any morsel of information she could get.

"Really? You think I'd believe that?" Penelope scoffed. "I'm looking for information, and I won't be satisfied until I strike gold."

I fought a chuckle as I heard Aaron bite back a snort of laughter. "Garcia I don't know what you're-"

"Tell him Derek."

My eyebrows shot up in surprise, I hadn't anticipated Morgan being in on this interrogation. "Hotch, man-you'd better just tell the woman what she wants to know."

"I think all of you need to back off." I heard Aaron warn. Though I could easily detect the humor in his voice, I also picked up on a slight amount of fear.

"Hotch," This time it was Emily's voice that carried towards her, "cut the crap. We know you're practically living together. We want details."

"I'm not afraid of any of you." Hotch said. I had to clamp my hand over my mouth to stop the giggle from errupting at the slight fear trembling in his voice. I'm sure I was the only one who picked up on it, but if I had a video camera to record that moment, I would have had the best video for the Christmas Party.

"I'm a trained interrogator." Rossi's deep chuckle was almost too much for me to handle. "I can break you." He teased.

Hotch chuckled, obviously relenting. "What do you want to know? I just might tell you." I could picture his confident smirk as I leaned back against the wall. Some times, things with Hotch just felt right.

And that terrified me.

Because I couldn't be so completely in love with Hotch that I was willing to let go of Will completely.

Was I?

"Do you love her?" I heard Spence ask him quickly. Suddenly, I felt incredibly uncomfortable listening to the team hound my "boyfriend" for details on his feelings. While they were all his friends too, I felt almost like a voyer, peeking in on a moment I had no business witnessing.

As I tried to quietly step back to my office, Hotch's reply quickly resounded in my ears. "Yeah, I do. I love her more than I ever thought I could love someone. Happy?" While his tone was joking, I could tell that his words were sincere.

Which only added to my dillema.

Because I wasn't sure I was ready to fall in love with Aaron Hotchner.

But I was pretty sure I didn't want to live without him.

And that scared me.

* * *

I slowly walked up to the headstone that I had been avoiding for months. The crisp leaves crunched under my feet with each step, and though I could feel Emily and Garcia watching my back intently, I was grateful they could watch my son while I shared this short moment alone with the man I used to love.

"Hi Will." I smiled as I reached the marble headstone I had completely avoided for the next little while. "It's been a long time."

_That's not my fault, Chere._ I pictured him smirking cockily as he sat on his own headstone. His presence felt so real I could almost see it. Almost.

"I know." I chuckled dryly. "I've...I've had a hard time lately." I admitted honestly.

_Really?_ I could feel Will smirk sarcastically, _I hadn't noticed._

"Shut up" I laughed under my breath, "You had it easy, you got to die I had to-"

_Live? _Will's presence in my mind supplied. _Poor JJ, you got to live and raise our son._

My face fell at his teasing tone. Though this version of Will was only in my mind, I knew Will well enough to know exactly how he would respond. "I'm trying to apologize here." I said sarcastically as I raised my eyes heavenward.

_Don't you get it Chere? You don't have anything to apologize for. _Will's memory smirked at me happily. _All I ever wanted for you was to be happy._

I smiled, for the first time feeling a weight that I hadn't known I had been carrying lifted off my shoulders. "I always loved you."

_I know._ Will's memory faded and I stared longingly at the gravesite in front of me.

Maybe I had just found my answer.

* * *

Sitting on the cool park bench later that day, I felt a cold breeze nip through me. "Five more minutes Henry," I called to the blossoming boy. Somewhere along the way, Henry had turned from a toddler to a boy, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia that my baby boy was growing up.

And looking more and more like Will every day.

He had Will's hair-Will's crazy cowlick that stood up in the back and refused to be tamed. When Henry was born, I used to hope it would grow out.

Now, I hope that he always has it, just like his father did.

Suddenly I felt a presence sitting down next to me. I smiled as Hotch offered me a cup of coffee, "Here. I thought you might be cold."

"I didn't expect you here." I grinned as I kissed him chastely on the lips, "I thought you were going to meet me at home."

Hotch shrugged though I could see how pleased he was with himself, "I thought it might be a nice surprise."

"It is." I scooted closer to him, seeping in his warmth. "Aaron?" I looked up at him, smiling at his chisled features.

"Yeah?" He asked when I hadn't spoken further.

"Aaron, I love you." I sighed as I leaned against him. "I thought I should just let you know."

He pulled back, his normally stoic face breaking into a wide grin. "Really?"

I nodded softly. "Yeah, I love you. I'm ready to be with you-I'm ready to move on."

One of the reasons I loved Hotch was his quiet and understated responses to dramatic events. I knew that our argument the other night had hurt him, and I was also painfully aware that I had yet to utter the three very important words. Other men might try to make a big deal about it.

Instead, Aaron leaned back against the parkbench and smiled, raising his arm along the back of the bench and pulling me in close to him. "I love you too, JJ. Don't ever forget that."

I didn't think I ever would.


	12. Epilogue

_**An/And here is the final chapter. I struggled with this story, from the beginning it was supposed to be a complete chiasmis (so that the first chapter was related to the last chapter, second chapter with second to last chapter, etc.) Unfortunately, though I had it all planned out, it stifled my creativity. BUT, I finally decided to just suck it up and finish it. Let me know what you think.**_

**_I don't own Criminal Minds, but that doesn't stop me from having far too much fun with it. Anyway, enjoy!_**

_

* * *

_

"Oh, Jayje." Penelope gasped as I stepped out of the bathroom having zipped up my dress. This was the one thing I had steadily refused to let anyone see until the actual day, much to my best friend's (and fiance's) disappointment. Though I had let Garcia and Hotch have free reign over planning the rest of this day, I had insisted on picking out my own wedding dress alone. I chuckled to myself as I thought of how lucky I was that Hotch cared so deeply about making this wedding perfect.

Because otherwise, I'm pretty sure we would have ended up with a French Revolution theme.

I smiled at her reaction, pleased that this dress made me look as good as I thought it did. "You think it looks okay?"

"Okay?" Garcia asked incredulously, "Jennifer Jareau, that dress is _perfect._"

Emily, who had been on the phone, stalked back into the small room as she readjusted her dress uncomfortably. "Jayje." She breathed in awe and I could feel the blush rising up my cheeks. "You look amazing." Emily encouraged with a bright smile.

"Thanks." I felt a grin split across my face. "What did Hotch say?" I prodded, glancing back in the mirror to fix any minor imperfection.

"He's here, the boys are here and dressed. He's having one of the guys keep an eye on them while he changes into his tux."

"I can't believe it." My grin broadened as I played with one of the errant curls cascading down my neck. "It's actually happening."

"I can believe it." Garcia snorted as she flopped onto the couch. "It took the two of you long enough." She groaned sarcastically.

"If anybody deserves this, it's you." Emily agreed. "Are you happy? You look happy." The older woman observed.

Looking myself over once more, I smiled. "Happier than I've ever been."

* * *

Minutes later, Penelope's phone rang and my maid of honor's face dropped as she hurried outside. Poking her head back into the room, she assured me softly, "Everything's fine, but...stay there!" She ordered sharply.

I chuckled as Emily and I shared a glance. Garcia was almost more excited about this than I was. Hearing muffled whispers outside the room, I only had to glance at Emily before we both made our way to the door to listen in on the commotion outside.

"How could you let this happen?" I heard Penelope's hushed whisper outside the door. Quirking an eyebrow, I nudged the door open to see my sweet adorable three year old with mud dripping down his face and small suit onto the floor. "I'm going to-"

"What happened?" I cried, pushing the door open and reaching down to scoop up my son.

"Don't!" Penelope cried desperately, diving toward Henry and snatching his arm before he could run toward me. "You'll mess up your dress." It was only then that I noticed his hands were covered in mud as well.

"Henry, how'd you get so dirty?" I chuckled exasperatedly. As a mother of a three year old, I was well used to the messes that seemed to follow my boy wherever he went.

"I's playin." Henry smiled a toothy grin that was a carbon copy of the same grin Will would give me when he knew I caught him. I smiled happily at the memory, despite the destroyed suit that I'd probably have to end up paying for. "I made you a cake." Henry fished in his pocket and held out a fistful of mud proudly.

"Aw, buddy that's so sweet. Thank you." I chuckled at my son's sincerity, unable to do anything other than laugh at his simple attempt to do something nice for me.

Turning to the four groomsmen that were slowly inching away, I quirked an eyebrow simply. "Who was supposed to be watching him?"

"Don't look at me." Emily held up her hands, "I was with you the entire time." She smirked at me, letting me know just how funny she found the entire situation. Truthfully, I felt about the same as she did, and since Penelope obviously had the "bridezilla" role covered, I stepped back and let her deal with the situation. Today was my wedding day, and I wasn't about to let anything mar the joy of this day.

"Not me." Sean shook his head and chuckled. "I was watching Jack." Aaron's brother's face fell as he realized his charge was no longer at his side. "Uh," He turned down the hall, "Don't tell Aaron." He warned, darting around the corner. I chortled as I heard him begin yelling Jack's name in a desperate attempt to find the six year old.

Rossi chuckled. "Not me." Seeing the traitorous looks Derek and Spence shot him, the older man chuckled, "hey, I'm walking JJ down the aisle, I can't be responsible for everything."

"It wasn't my fault JJ." Reid shook his head, "I told Derek I had to run to the bathroom and he said-'

"You?" Garcia sputtered, turning on Derek and swatting his arm lightly, "because of you my godson looks like the swamp creature?"

Derek chuckled uncertainly, not sure of what he could say to dissuade Garcia's anger. "Baby Girl, it's not my fault...see, Henry wanted to pick his mom a flower, and..."

"Not your fault?" Garcia exploded dramatically, suddenly looking slightly terrifying in her dark blue dress. "You're single handedly ruining the best day in JJ's life and it's not your fault?" She softened as she noticed Henry's face drop slightly, "It's okay sweat pea, let's get you cleaned up." Turning back toward Derek, she scowled "but we're not finished yet."

I snorted at the look of pure horror that crossed his face as Penelope silently herded my son into the bathroom across the hall, the thoughts of Penelope's revenge likely tormenting Derek's mind.

"Don't worry, I'll talk to her." I offered softly, patting the dark skinned man comfortingly on the arm.

"I don't even know that will make a difference." Derek cringed.

"Who's going to tell Hotch?" Emily smirked. I snorted at the idea of anyone going to Hotch and explaining that something might disrupt his and Penelope's perfectly planned day.

"Not it," I shook my head laughing. Today was my day and all I was supposed to do was show up with my dress to have my hair and makeup done for me. No way was I going to tell Aaron.

"Not it!" Emily, Dave, and Derek cried at the same time.

Spencer looked on at the rest of us in surprise. "Aw," He groaned. "I hate this game."

* * *

I smiled as I stopped at the altar with Hotch at my side. "Dearly beloved," The priest began to officiate, but his words were drown out by the pure feeling of contentment that surrounded me.

Glancing back through the small church to find each open seat filled with mine and Aaron's family and friends, I couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. The support of our friends was amazing, but what touched me more was the silhouette I could feel standing in the back of the church watching with approval.

I vaguely realized the priest addressing Hotch, but there was no mistaking the devotion that radiated from him as he looked at me softly. "I do." He said, the words blurring together like a foggy dream.

"Jennifer Jareau" The priest addressed me, bringing me back to the reality of the situation. "Do you take Aaron Hotchner to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, as long as you both shall live?"

"I will." I smiled, my face dropping as I realized I said the name of the figure I could feel approving of my union, "I mean, yes. I mean, I do." I felt the blush rising through my cheeks, hoping that inno way had Aaron misinterpreted my excitement at getting married. As I looked into the eyes of the man in front of me, I could see no doubt or curiosity in his eyes.

Only love.

And in that moment, I realized how lucky I was. Not only had I been loved in the past, but I had a marvelous future to look forward with the love of my life by my side.

* * *

_"The phoenix hope, can wing her way through the desert skies, and still defying fortune's spite; revive from ashes and rise."_

_-Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra _

* * *

**_The End._**


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